Trust
by Makesushi
Summary: Trust is a funny thing. Harry Potter, trusted Dumbledore, who he over heard plotting to kill him. Harry Potter trusted Snape to be 100% for it. Harry Potter never trusted that Voldemort, of all people would be the one to rescue him. Grey! Harry, Horcrux, maybe slash later, rated M just in case. HPXEveryone, eventual TomxDraco, and Harryxother.
1. Broken Trust

**This is just a plot that's been in my mind for about a year or so first chapter will be a bit wonky, but I promise I'll try my best. ****Part of this is taken from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, chapter 32****  
**

He stood outside the headmasters office, the night after the second task, with his mouth hanging open. It seemed that neither Dumbledore nor Snape knew he was standing there, listening to every treacherous word they were saying.

"It is for the greater good, Severus."The old man said wearily.

"You've lied to me!" The potions master raged, sounding as if he had slammed his hand into something hard. "All these years, while I protected him, you've raised Harry Potter like a pig for slaughter!"

"Do not think of it so cruelly, Severus." Dumbledore was trying to calm the harsh man down. "For Voldemort to fall, truly and forever, Harry Potter must die. I have already found two other Horcruxes. Then with Harry that makes three."

"Then why have you waited thirteen years?"

"I was not sure, until this year."

He couldn't stand to listen to them anymore. He turned around and raced quickly and quietly down the hallway. He needed to talk to someone. Someone who _knew_ about dark magic and wizards. He thought, maybe Moody would be able to help him clear up, exactly what was happening.

%^&*(

He knocked on the door, and waited for the mad man to open it.

"What are you doing here, Potter?!" The man demanded, pushing him into the room, and checking the hallway.

"I...I over heard professor Dumbledore and Snape talking."

"Oh?

"I was wondering...if you could tell me what a Horcrux is?"

The older wizard looked at him with sharp eye, that momentarily flashed strangely. He looked Harry over with calculating eyes. "Why would you ask _that_ Potter?" He questioned finally, his lips thinned out.

"So you know about it then?"

"That's a really dark bit of magic there. I read about it, in a book my father's mother owned."

"Oh. Can you tell me?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"You promise not to tell anyone?"

"Yes Potter, I promise." He rolled his eyes, sitting in his chair, and looked at Harry intently.

"Dumbledore was telling Snape, that _I_ was Voldemort's Horcrux."

The man sat in utter silence, looking at Harry with cold eyes. "You must be...kidding?" He asked, his blue eye rolling around in his head.

"No sir."

Moody pushed back his thinning hair and turned away from Harry in his hair, with his hands folded into his lap. He flicked his tongue out, and licked his bottom lip, the strange habit he had displayed from day one of the school year. "Potter, I can't tell you nothin...not yet. Come back tomorrow."

"But sir-"

"Out!"

%^&*(

He found it hard, to sit in his room, waiting for Dumbledore to come in and do the deed. For the next few months, he was on edge constantly. He would guard himself more the usual around Snape, he made excuses to not go and see Dumbledore. He did _whatever_ he could to keep himself alive, even to the point where he wouldn't even eat in the great hall.

Then came the night of the third task. He stood there, with his hands in front of him, Moody with his hand on his shoulder. "You'll do fine Potter, just get to the cup in the center of the maze."

He nodded, not facing his teacher, looking at the crowed. They were cheering, music was playing, some people were even holding up signs. He smiled at his friends nervously, who were waving wildly at him.

He turned to his entrance in the maze, then with one last look at the stands he run forward.

%^&*(

The riddle had been easy enough, the changing trees, had been a different story. It took him almost fourty-five minutes before he had even seen any of the other champions. Flur had been screaming on the ground. He didn't have any idea how to help her. So he shot up red sparks. Krum had passed him in a haze, and Cedric had been out cold in the center of the maze face down in the ground. He shot up another wave of red sparks, before letting out a triumphant smile spread on his face.

Then he touched the cup, and disappeared from Hogwarts, falling onto the hard ground of a grave yard.

%^&*(

He let out a cry of pain, feeling the air rush out of him. After regaining his breath, he looked around him. There was fog, that covered the names of the dead, and overgrown plants that wrapped around the taller headstones. He slowly got to his feet, trying to keep calm.

He saw a figure, short and plump, outlined by the mist. He took a few steps back. "H-Hello?" He called, still walking backwards. The figure turned, and started walking quickly towards him. Harry didn't have that chance before he was flung backwards violently into the arms of a stone grim reaper, and held there.

****The cloaked man was now conjuring tight cords around Harry, tying him from neck to ankles to the headstone. Harry could hear shallow, fast breathing from the depths of the hood; he struggled, and the man hit him - hit him with a hand that had a finger missing. And Harry realized who was under the hood. It was Wormtail.

"You!" he gasped.

But Wormtail, who had finished conjuring the ropes, did not reply ; he was busy checking the tightness of the cords, his fingers trembling uncontrollably, rumbling over the knots. Once sure that Harry was bound so tightly to the headstone that he couldn't move an inch, Wormtail drew a length of some black material from the inside of his cloak and stuffed it roughly into Harry's mouth; then, without a word, he turned from Harry and hurried away. Harry couldn't make a sound, nor could he see where Wormtail had gone; he couldn't turn his head to see beyond the headstone; he could see only what was right in front of him.

Harry's wand was on the ground at the foot of the statue. The bundle of robes that Harry had thought was a baby was close by, at the foot of the grave.

It seemed to be stirring fretfully. Harry watched it, and his scar seared with pain again . . . and he suddenly knew that he didn't want to see what was in those robes ...he didn't want that bundle opened...

He could hear noises at his feet. He looked down and saw a gigantic snake slithering through the grass, circling the headstone where he was tied. Wormtail's fast, wheezy breathing was growing louder again. It sounded as though he was forcing something heavy across the ground. Then he came back within Harry's range of vision, and Harry saw him pushing a stone cauldron to the foot of the grave. It was full of what seemed to be water - Harry could hear it slopping around - and it was larger than any cauldron Harry had ever used; a great stone belly large enough for a full-grown man to sit in.

The thing inside the bundle of robes on the ground was stirring more persistently, as though it was trying to free itself. Now Wormtail was busying himself at the bottom of the cauldron with a wand. Suddenly there were crackling names beneath it. The large snake slithered away into the darkness.

The liquid in the cauldron seemed to heat very fast. The surface began not only to bubble, but to send out fiery sparks, as though it were on fire. Steam was thickening, blurring the outline of Wormtail tending the fire. The movements beneath the robes became more agitated. And Harry heard the high, cold voice again.

"Hurry!"

The whole surface of the water was alight with sparks now. It might have been encrusted with diamonds.

"It is ready. Master."

"Now ..." said the cold voice.

Wormtail pulled open the robes on the ground, revealing what was inside them, and Harry let out a yell that was strangled in the wad of material blocking his mouth.

It was as though Wormtail had flipped over a stone and revealed something ugly, slimy, and blind - but worse, a hundred times worse. The thing Wormtail had been carrying had the shape of a crouched human child, except that Harry had never seen anything less like a child. It was hairless and scaly-looking, a dark, raw, reddish black. Its arms and legs were thin and feeble, and its face - no child alive ever had a face like that - flat and snakelike, with gleaming red eyes.

The thing seemed almost helpless; it raised its thin arms, put them around Wormtail's neck, and Wormtail lifted it. As he did so, his hood fell back, and Harry saw the look of revulsion on Wormtail's weak, pale face in the firelight as he carried the creature to the rim of the cauldron. For one moment, Harry saw the evil, flat face illuminated in the sparks dancing on the surface of the potion. And then Wormtail lowered the creature into the cauldron; there was a hiss, and it vanished below the surface; Harry heard its frail body hit the bottom with a soft thud.

' _Let it drown,'_ Harry thought, his scar burning almost past endurance, ' _please. . . let it drown. . . .'_

Wormtail was speaking. His voice shook; he seemed frightened beyond his wits. He raised his wand, closed his eyes, and spoke to the night.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you wil lrenew your son!"

The surface of the grave at Harry's feet cracked. Horrified, Harry watched as a fine trickle of dust rose into the air at Wormtail's command and fell softly into the cauldron. The diamond surface of the water broke and hissed; it sent sparks in all directions and turned a vivid, poisonous-looking blue.

And now Wormtail was whimpering. He pulled a long, thin, shining silver dagger from inside his cloak. His voice broke into petrified sobs.

"Flesh - of the servant - w-willingly given - you will - revive - your master. "

He stretched his right hand out in front of him - the hand with the missing finger. He gripped the dagger very tightly in his left hand and swung it upward.

Harry realized what Wormtail was about to do a second before it happened - he closed his eyes as tightly as he could, but he could not block the scream that pierced the night, that went through Harry as though he had been stabbed with the dagger too. He heard something fall to the ground, heard Wormtail's anguished panting, then a sickening splash, as something was dropped into the cauldron. Harry couldn't stand to look . . .but the potion had turned a burning red; the light of it shone through Harry's closed eyelids. . . .

Wormtail was gasping and moaning with agony. Not until Harry felt Wormtail's anguished breath on his face did he realize that Wormtail was right in front of him.

"B-blood of the enemy . . . forcibly taken .. . you will. . . resurrect your foe."

Harry could do nothing to prevent it, he was tied too tightly. . .. Squinting down, struggling hopelessly at the ropes binding him, he saw the shining silver dagger shaking in Wormtails remaining hand. He felt its point penetrate the crook of his right arm and blood seeping down the sleeve of his torn robes. Wormtail, still panting with pain, rumbled in his pocket for a glass vial and held it to Harry's cut, so that a dribble of blood fell into it.

He staggered back to the cauldron with Harrys blood. He poured it inside. The liquid within turned, instantly, a blinding white. Wormtail, his job done, dropped to his knees beside the cauldron, then slumped sideways and lay on the ground, cradling the bleeding stump of his arm, gasping and sobbing.

The cauldron was simmering, sending its diamond sparks in all directions, so blindingly bright that it turned all else to velvety blackness. Nothing happened. . . .

' _Let it have drowned.'_ Harry thought, ' _let it have gone wrong. . . '_

And then, suddenly, the sparks emanating from the cauldron were extinguished. A surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron instead, obliterating everything in front of Harry, so that he couldn't see Wormtail or the cauldron or anything but vapor hanging in the air. ... _It's gone wrong, he thought. . . it's drowned. .. please . . . please let it be dead. ..._

But then, through the mist in front of him, he saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron.

"Robe me," said the high, cold voice from behind the steam, and Wormtail, sobbing and moaning, still cradling his mutilated arm, scrambled to pick up the black robes from the ground, got to his feet, reached up, and pulled them one-handed over his master's head.

The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Harry . . . and Harry stared back into the face that had haunted his nightmares for three years. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was sharp as a knife, and abnormally small. Lord Voldemort had risen again.

Voldemort looked away from Harry and began examining his own body. His hands were like large, pale spiders; his long white fingers caressed his own chest, his arms, his face; the red eyes, whose pupils were slits, like a cats, gleamed still more brightly through the darkness. He held up his hands and flexed the fingers, his expression rapt and exultant. He took not the slightest notice of Wormtail, who lay twitching and bleeding on the ground, nor of the great snake, which had slithered back into sight and was circling Harry again, hissing. Voldemort slipped one of those unnaturally long-fingered hands into a deep pocket and drew out a wand. He caressed it gently too; and then he raised it, and pointed it at Wormtail, who was lifted off the ground and thrown against the headstone where Harry was tied; he fell to the foot of it and lay there, crumpled up and crying. Voldemort turned his scarlet eyes upon Harry, laughing a high, cold, mirthless laugh.

Wormtail's robes were shining with blood now; he had wrapped the stump of his arm in them.

"My Lord . . ." he choked, "my Lord . . . you promised . . . you did promise ..."

"Hold out your arm," said Voldemort lazily.

"Oh Master . . . thank you, Master ..."

He extended the bleeding stump, but Voldemort laughed again.

"The other arm, Wormtail."

"Master, please . . .please ..."

Voldemort bent down and pulled out Wormtail's left arm; he forced the sleeve of Wormtail's robes up past his elbow, and Harry saw something upon the skin there, something like a vivid red tattoo - a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth the image that had appeared in the sky at the Quidditch World Cup: the Dark Mark. Voldemort examined it carefully, ignoring Wormtail's uncontrollable weeping.

"It is back," he said softly, "they will all have noticed it... and now, we shall see, now we shall know ..." He pressed his long white forefinger to the brand on Wormtail's arm.

The scar on Harry s forehead seared with a sharp pain again, and Wormtail let out a fresh howl; Voldemort removed his fingers from Wormtail's mark, and Harry saw that it had turned jet black.

A look of cruel satisfaction on his face, Voldemort straightened up, threw back his head, and stared around at the dark graveyard.

"How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?" he whispered, his gleaming red eyes fixed upon the stars. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"

He began to pace up and down before Harry and Wormtail, eyes sweeping the graveyard all the while. After a minute or so, he looked down at Harry again, a cruel smile twisting his snakelike face.

"You stand, Harry Potter, upon the remains of my late father," he hissed softly. "A Muggle and a fool. . . very like your dear mother. But they both had their uses, did they not? Your mother died to defend you as a child . . . and I killed my father, and see how useful he has proved himself, in death. ..." Voldemort laughed again. Up and down he paced, looking all around him as he walked, and the snake continued to circle in the grass.

"You see, that house upon the hillside, Potter? My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived here in this village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she was. ... He didn't like magic, my father.

"He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born. Potter, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage, but I vowed to find him ... I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name . . . Tom Riddle. . . ." Still he paced, his red eyes darting from grave to grave.

"Listen o me, reliving family history . . ." he said quietly, "why, I am growing quite sentimental. But look, Harry! My true family returns. . . ."

The air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Between graves, behind the yew tree, in every shadowy space, wizards were Apparating. All of them were hooded and masked. And one by one they moved forward slowly, cautiously, as though they could hardly believe their eyes Voldemort stood in silence, waiting for them. Then one of the Death Eaters fell to his knees, crawled toward Voldemort and kissed the hem of his black robes.

"Master . . . Master " he murmured.

The Death Eaters behind him did the same; each of them approaching Voldemort on his knees and kissing his robes, before backing away and standing up, forming a silent circle, which enclosed Tom Riddle's grave, Harry, Voldemort, and the sobbing and twitching heap that was Wormtail. Yet they left gaps in the circle, as though waiting for more people.

Voldemort, however, did not seem to expect more. He looked around at the hooded faces, and though there was no wind rustling seemed to run around the circle, as though it had shivered.

"Welcome, Death Eaters," said Voldemort quietly. "Thirteen years. . . thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answered my call as though it were yesterday, we are still united under the Dark Mark, then! Or are we?"

He put back his terrible face and sniffed, his nostrils widening.

"I smell guilt," he said. "There is a stench or guilt upon the air."

A second shiver ran around the circle, as though each member of it longed, but did not dare to step back from him.

"I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact - such prompt appearances! and I ask myself . . . why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?"

No one spoke. No one moved except Wormtail, who was upon the ground, still sobbing over his bleeding arm.

"And I answer myself," whispered Voldemort, "they must have believed me broken, they thought I was gone. They slipped back among my enemies, and they pleaded innocence, and ignorance, and bewitchment.

"And then I ask myself, but how could they have believed I would not rise again? They, who knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death? They, who had seen proofs of the immensity of my power in the times when I was mightier than any wizard living?

"And I answer myself, perhaps they believed a still greater power could exist, one that could vanquish even Lord Voldemort. . . perhaps they now pay allegiance to another . . .

perhaps that champion of commoners, of Mudbloods and Muggles, Albus Dumbledore?"

At the mention of Dumbledore's name, the members of the circle stirred, and some muttered and shook their heads. Voldemort ignored them.

"It is a disappointment to me ... I confess myself disappointed. . . ."

One of the men suddenly flung himself forward, breaking the circle. Trembling from head to foot, he collapsed at Voldemort's feet.

"Master!" he shrieked, "Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!"

Voldemort began to laugh. He raised his wand.

"Crucio!"

The Death Eater on the ground writhed and shrieked; Harry was sure the sound must carry to the houses around. . . . Let the police come, he thought desperately, anyone, anything. . .

Voldemort raised his wand. The tortured Death Eater lay flat upon the ground, gasping.

"Get up, Avery," said Voldemort softly. "Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years ... I want thirteen years' repayment before I forgive you. Wormtail here has paid some of his debt already, have you not, Wormtail?"

He looked down at Wormtail, who continued to sob.

"You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Master," moaned Wormtail, "please. Master . . . please ..."

"Yet you helped return me to my body," said Voldemort coolly, watching Wormtail sob on the ground. "Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me ... and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers... ."

Voldemort raised his wand again and whirled it through the air. A streak of what looked like molten silver hung shining in the wand's wake. Momentarily shapeless, it writhed and then formed itself into a gleaming replica of a human hand, bright as moonlight, which soared downward and fixed itself upon Wormtails bleeding wrist.

Wormtail's sobbing stopped abruptly. His breathing harsh and ragged, he raised his head and stared in disbelief at the silver hand, now attached seamlessly to his arm, as though he were wearing a dazzling glove. He flexed the shining fingers, then, trembling, picked up a small twig on the ground and crushed it into powder.

"My Lord," he whispered. "Master ... it is beautiful. . . thank you... thank you. ..."

He scrambled forward on his knees and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes.

"May your loyalty never waver again, Wormtail," said Voldemort.

"No, my Lord . . . never, my Lord . . ."

Wormtail stood up and took his place in the circle, staring at his powerful new hand, his face still shining with tears. Voldemort now approached the man on Wormtail's right.

"Lucius, my slippery friend," he whispered, halting before him. "I am told that you have not renounced the old ways, though to the world you present a respectable face. You are still ready to take the lead in a spot of Muggle-torture, I believe? Yet you never tried to find me, Lucius. . . . Your exploits at the Quidditch World Cup were fun, I daresay but might not your energies have been better directed toward finding and aiding your master?"

"My Lord, I was constantly on the alert," came Lucius Malfoy's voice swiftly from beneath the hood. "Had there been any sign from you, any whisper of your whereabouts, I would have been at your side immediately, nothing could have prevented me -"

"And yet you ran from my Mark, when a faithful Death Eater sent it into the sky last summer?" said Voldemort lazily, and Mr. Malfoy stopped talking abruptly. "Yes, I know all about that, Lucius. You have disappointed me. I expect more faithful service in the future."

"Of course, my Lord, of course. You are merciful, thank you."

Voldemort moved on, and stopped, staring at the space - large enough for two people -that separated Malfoy and the next man.

"The Lestranges should stand here," said Voldemort quietly. "But they are entombed in Azkaban. They were faithful. They went to Azkaban rather than renounce me. . . . When Azkaban is broken open, the Lestranges will be honored beyond their dreams. The dementors will join us ... they are our natural allies ... we will recall the banished giants ... I shall have all my devoted servants returned to me, and an army of creatures whom all fear. "

He walked on. Some of the Death Eaters he passed in silence, but he paused before others and spoke to them.

"Macnair . . . destroying dangerous beasts for the Ministry of Magic now, Wormtail tells me? You shall have better victims than that soon, Macnair. Lord Voldemort will provide.

..."

"Thank you, Master . . . thank you," murmured Macnair.

"And here" - Voldemort moved on to the two largest hooded figures - "we have Crabbe . . .

you will do better this time, will you not, Crabbe? And you, Goyle?"

They bowed clumsily, muttering dully.

"Yes, Master ..."

"We will, Master..."

"The same goes for you, Nott," said Voldemort quietly as he walked past a stooped figure

in Mr. Goyles shadow.

"My Lord, I prostrate myself before you, I am your most faithful -"

"That will do," said Voldemort.

He had reached the largest gap of all, and he stood surveying it with his blank, red eyes, as though he could see people standing there.

"And here we have six missing Death Eaters . . . three dead in my service. One, too cowardly to return ... he will pay. One, who I believe has left me forever ... he will be killed, of course . . . and one, who remains my most faithful servant, and who has already reentered my service."

The Death Eaters stirred, and Harry saw their eyes dart sideways at one another through their masks.

"He is at Hogwarts, that faithful servant, and it was through his efforts that I discovered something _very interesting_ about our young friend.

"Yes," said Voldemort, a grin curling his red lips dangerously as the eyes of the circle flashed in Harry's direction. "Harry Potter has kindly joined us for my rebirthing party. One might go so far as to call him my guest of honor."

There was a silence. Then the Death Eater to the right of Wormtail stepped forward, and Lucius Malfoy's voice spoke from under the mask.

"Master, we crave to know ... we beg you to tell us ... how you have achieved this...this miracle . . . how you managed to return to us. "

"Ah, what a story it is, Lucius," said Voldemort. "And it begins - and ends - with my young friend here."

He walked lazily over to stand next to Harry, so that the eyes of the whole circle were upon the two of them. The snake continued to circle.

"You know, of course, that they have called this boy my downfall?" Voldemort said softly, his red eyes upon Harry, whose scar began to burn so fiercely that he almost screamed in agony. "You all know that on the night I lost my powers and my body, I tried to kill him. His mother died in the attempt to save him - and unwittingly provided him with protection...****but it was not _her_ protection. Something I had not foreseen, and I could not touch the boy."

He raised one of his long thin fingers, almost touching Harry's cheek. "It _was not_ Lilly Potter, who placed protection over her son, as the old fool believes. No...my followers, and believe me when I say, I was just as surprised, but it was _my_ protection that saved young Harry here." He let his words flow over the crowed, letting off a satisfied air. "When I killed his mother, a piece of me...latched onto the boy. It was only through _my power_ that Harry Potter is alive today."

He smiled at Harry dangerously, his long, lanky black hair falling into his red eyes. "It was almost a, _happy accident,_ a boon, a repayment from the universe for being set back so long in my plans." He turned to his followers, once again stepping into the middle of the circle. "His mother, has foolishly, made me _truly immortal._ "

"My Lord?" Nott interrupted hesitantly. "Weren't you _already_ immortal before?"

Voldemort turned and glared at his follower, but answered all the same. "Yes, I was. But now...truly nothing can harm me. A sward, a curse, _nothing."_

He walked quickly back to Harry. He leaned in very close to his ear. "I'll take very good care of you, my dear Horcrux." He whispered, his lips touching his skin uncomfortably. There was a strange sensation that traveled quickly down his spine. Voldemort pulled away and looked at his Death Eaters, still close to Harry. "Lucius, bind him. He will be coming with us, back to your home."

"Yes, my lord." The rich man said, stepping closer to Harry, with a smug smirk on his face. He unbound Harry from the stone, but kept the gag around his mouth. He tied Harry's wrists together, then his legs. "He's secure my lord."

"Very good." Then collectivly, all the Death Eaters, and their master aparated to Malfoy's home.

 **So, this is where the other three books are more or less tossed out the window, so I won't be using them again (I swear the only reason I did this was because I couldn't get the resurrection part correct.)**

 **The differences between my Voldemort and cannon Voldemort is obviously he has hair and a nose. I hope that doesn't bother anyone.**

 **I'm also not sure if this is going to be a HP/LV slash or not.**

 **Harry will definitely be grey in this story, with questionable morals, and Voldemort twisting him every step of the way.**

 **So, please leave a comment, a question, or a suggestion, and have a nice rest of your day.**


	2. Punishment

**Yay, another chapter. I was really surprised by how many people liked a favorited this. Thank you all so much *hugs***

 **Please leave your comments/questions/suggestions here for me.**

 **Please enjoy.**

His first instinct was to fight. But the ropes that wrapped him tightly prevented nearly all movement. He was laying on the cold stone floor of the Malfoy's dungeons. He let out a frustrated growl, that was muffled by the fabric tied around his mouth. He continued to struggle, rolling around on the floor, hoping to catch the rope on something sharp.

He eventually gave up, and simply laid there, looking at the empty darkness. There was an ache in his shoulders, caused by his hands being tied at such a tense position behind his back. He laced his fingers together to try and release them, but it did nothing more then make the muscles strain more. Harry could feel the ropes digging into his skin, rubbing against his skin. The rough rope made him wince, and curl up in the cold darkness, trying to move away from the pain.

He lifted his head, when he heard the door at the top of the stairs open, and cast a ray of light down on him. He squeezed his eyes shut, his eyes not used to the light.

"Potter." A pompous voice called down to him.

"Malfoy." He said back, with a scratchy voice.

The father of his school rival slowly descended down the stairs, the click of his cane hitting the stone while he made his way slowly to the fourteen year old. The aristocrat slammed the bottom of the cane onto Harry's hand, causing him to cry out in pain. "Not so high and mighty now, are you?" He asked, twisting it.

He placed his cane on the floor, pulling out his wand as he did so. He undid the ropes around Harry's legs, using his wand to cast the rope to the side. With Harry's hands, he positioned them with ropes around both his wrists and his upper arms. "Struggle, and you'll pop your shoulder out of place." Malfoy warned, grabbing Harry by the ropes, and forcing him to his feet. "Now move, the Dark Lord wishes to see you."

$%^&*(

He was led by Malfoy through the long halls of his large home. He took everything in, trying get a map of the place, for possible escape at a later time. But with every twist, that plan seemed bleaker and bleaker. They suddenly stopped in front of two large wooden doors, with intricate designs of dark iron snakes. Malfoy pushed the door open and forced Harry to the center of the room, where an empty chair waited in front of him. He was pushed down to his knees.

Harry didn't have to wait long for Voldemort to make an appearance. He came in, with three Death Eaters trailing behind him, two on his left, one on his right. They stood behind the large throne, and Malfoy moved to join them, standing on the right, behind the other wizard.

The man Harry was looking at now, was very different from the man in the grave yard. His once wild long hair, had been trimmed to where it only seemed to reach the center of his back. It was more managed, obviously well taken care of. He still had slit red eyes, and dark red lips, but he seemed to have become less corps like in color. He tilted his head to the side, observing Harry carefully, with a smirk on his face.

"Harry Potter...the boy who lived." Voldemort leaned his chin against the palm on his hand, laying the other arm in his lap, that was clothed in a black robe that almost seemed to be made from smoke. "I must admit, after thirteen years of suffering as a bodiless specter, it pleases me to see you kneeling at my throne."

Harry let out an aggressive snarl, unable to voice the choice words he so desperately wanted to. He was enraged by Voldemort's mirthful laugh. He hated it, that the Dark Lord looked so carefree, after all the innocent people he had harmed.

"Now, now Harry. Don't look so angry." The Dark Lord tutted, waving a finger at him like he was a misbehaved pet. "There is no need to fear, I have no intention of killing you." There was a shift in the crowd, all clearly suprsied by their masters words. They had all assumed that they were there to watch Harry Potter's painful death before they continued on with their plans.

He stood from his throne and slowly made his way towards Harry. He light laid his palms on Harry's cheeks. Harry's eyes widened as the same tingle from before ran through his body at the contact. Then slowly, the contact started to become itchy, then a dull throb in his head, finally tuning into a burning pain that had Harry letting out a high pitched scream.

Voldemort quickly let go and let Harry crumple to the floor, landing painfully on his arms. The black haired boy was sobbing on the floor, the headache slowly starting to ebb. His breathing was heavy and ragged. He looked at Voldemort with wide green eyes, swimming with tears that he was desperately trying to hold back.

"All will be forgiven, Harry." The Dark Lord said, standing over him, with a wicked smile on his lips, his red eyes burning with cruelty. "However, I think you should be _thoroughly_ punished before hand. CRUCIO!"

Harry started to thrash and screamed, rolling around on the marble floors, trying to rid his body of a thousand burning swords that were repeatedly stabbing into his body. He let out a relived scream when the curse was lifted. His muscles twitched involuntary. He could hear the Death Eaters cackling like demons all around, dressed in black robes, surrounding him on all sides.

"Oh Harry, how naive of you." Voldemort said, pulling him up by the hair, forcing the boy to look him in the eyes. "You seem to be under the impression that I'm finished." He tapped his nose against Harry's glasses, causing Harry's eye to zero in on it. "No, no, no. I have to repay you for 13 years. Holding back my plans, my followers in prison, wondering the earth as merely a specter." He tapped his own wand against his chin. "But...how should I do so?" He turned to his followers who were still snickering. "Ideas?" He asked.

"Burn him!" Someone yelled.

"Cut him to bits!" Screamed another.

"Hold him under Crucio until he goes mad!"

"Feed him to werewolves!"

"Beat him!"

"Skin him!"

"Whip him! One lash for every Death Eater in prison!"

Voldemort looked at Harry, that cruel smile still on his handsome face, seeming to think over all their suggestions. "See Harry, what a merciful master I am? I could have handed you over to them, then you'd be in a lot worse position then you are now." He shook Harry by his hair softly, causing the boy to whimper pathetically. He suddenly let go, letting Harry fall on the ground.

He thought over his options, then his smile widened. He cast Crucio a few more times, before he grew bored of the same spell over and over again. Harry was subdued, but still wonderfully responsive. He turned to one of the men standing at his right side. "Severus, go get as many healing potions as you can, Mr. Potter is in for a very long night." The man nodded, and ran off, stepping over Harry's prone form.

Voldemort turned his wand on Harry once more. "Ossis Effergo."

Harry resumed his screaming, when every single bone in his left leg was smashed to bits by the spell.

"Afflingo." It felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach.

"Appicus" Bees were stinging him everywhere, causing welts all over his body.

"Electro" Like he was being electrocuted.

"Imprecari" There was a fire on his chest, that lasted long enough that it burned his skin to the point of blackening, then disappeared.

"Intepestus" He suddenly started to vomit uncontrollably, not even his gag was holding anything back.

So on and on it went, until the sun started to come over the horizon. Harry looked out the high windows, feeling the next Crucio hit him mercilessly. He couldn't even scream, having already worn out his voice box. When the curse was lifted, he laid on the ground, feeling sweat causing his bangs to stick to his forehead.

"Ah, nine hours seems sufficient, wouldn't you say?" He asked his followers, but clearly not wanting them to say anything. He once again stood from his throne, and walked to Harry, however, this time he was far more gentle when he lifted Harry's head off the floor.

The boy's eyes moved to meet him, but he closed them quickly, trying to move away from the Dark Lord out of fear, causing him to smirk, and let out a mocking sound of sympathy. He slowly lowered him back to the floor. He stood again. "Severus, take Harry to my quarters, and heal him. Bring Nott with you"

"Yes...My Lord."

The two left side men, moved quickly to do as ordered. Snape lifted the boy who lived in his arms, and moved him quickly, through the Malfoy manor. Quickly, Harry let himself slip into unconsciousness.

$%^&*(

It had been three days since Harry had been punished by Voldemort, and still the boy had not woken. Snape had told his master, that it was better that way, so his body could heal all the damage done to it.

Voldemort was sitting in his study, looking over that day's issue of the 'Daily Prophet.'

$%^&*(

 **Boy-Who-Lived missing: Sirius Black main suspect**

 _It was during the final task of the Tri-Wizard tournament that our beloved boy hero disappeared suddenly from the maze. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry headmaster Albus Dumbledore was under the opinion that is WAS NOT in fact Black, but You-Know-Who himself, who has been resurrected._

 _As of this moment, The Ministry of Magic Department of Law Enforcement has nothing to say on their attempts to rescue the Boy-Who-Lived._

 _Wherever you may be Harry, please remember that we here at the Prophet wish for nothing more then your safe return._

$%^&*(

"He'll be safe, but he'll never return" Mused the Dark Lord. He folded the paper up, and tossed it to the other side of his desk. He had so much work to do, but he had no one he trusted enough to be alone with his Horcrux. Just like his others, he had to make sure that he was well protected. The objects were well hidden in places where no one but him could reach. Nagini was with him, _at all times._ But neither of those were practical for Harry.

He mused over the idea of leaving him with Lucius while he needed to be away, but considering what had happened to his diary, he figured that it was best if he didn't. But he _did_ have an inner circle for a reason. So he'd put _them_ _all_ in charge of Harry's well being and protection when he himself couldn't. But Snape would never be allowed around him alone.

He wasn't 100% sure that Severus was still on his side. Perhaps the comfort and protection the old goat had offered the man, had caused him to sway.

So he started to rethink his inner circle decision. A good combination would have to be patient to deal with Harry's frequent temper tantrums. Intelligent to continue the boy's education. Then strong. _No one_ could be allowed to hurt his Horcrux.

He wrote a list of his most loyal and powerful followers.

 **Lucius: Slippery, out for his own gain, but very intelligent, powerful, and has a son Harry's age. Knows how to handle 14 year olds**

 **Theodor Nott: A bit cowardly, but still good with wand work, a past privet tutor. _Also_ has a son Harry's age. **

**Avery: Cold, cruel, everything I love in my Death Eater, but suitable for childcare? He'll have to be.**

 **Bartty: My first choice. Loyal to a fault. No one will get to him if Chrouch is protecting him**

 **The Lestrange Brothers: Once they are broken out of prison, they will also be added to Harry's guard. I would suggest Bella as well, but she was bad _before_ Azkaban. I shudder to think about how violent she is now. **

He looked over his list and nodded his head in satisfaction. He wouldn't explain to them _what_ Harry was, but he would tell them that so long as Harry lived, so would he. He'd tell them the bare minimum.

He stood from his desk and walked into the small bedroom, that had been added to his quarters. It was directly next to his own room. He walked to the chair next to the boy's bed, and sat in it, watching his chest rise and fall. He was close enough to touch him. He laid his hand on the boy's head. He hoped that the piece of his soul resting in the scar was responding well to his touch, possibly even helping the boy to heal.

The boy let out a content sigh rolling over in his sleep, nuzzling his cheek into the soft feather pillow that had been provided for him. He looked small, hidden underneath the large blankets and surrounded by six large pillows.

Voldemort moved his shirt up, to check on the welts and burns on his chest and stomach area. Most had healed nicely, becoming nothing more then pink marks or bruises. However the largest of them, was still ugly red, and puckered. 'It'll be a reminder." He reasoned with himself, brushing his fingers over the afflicted area gently, only causing the mildest of whines from the boy.

Voldemort, was suddenly tempted to dig his fingers into the boy's smooth skin, but held himself back. He had promised that all would be forgiven, and Harry had already been punished severely. But it was hard to chase away such violent thoughts when he looked down at the child who had caused him so much trouble.

He pulled his hand away from Harry, and pulled the blankets back over him. He didn't want to damage the Horcrux that rested within the sleeping boy's soul. What a disaster that would be. With Harry, he had all seven, the most powerful magical number. He felt victorious. This had been his goal since he was fifteen years old, and still just a school boy. Even then, he never knew how truly powerful he would one day become.

After sitting with Harry, only awhile longer he left the room, making sure to lock the door from the outside. He didn't want to risk the slightest chance that Harry might escape.

$%^&*(

Dumbledore had gathered the old crowed the day after Harry had disappeared. They had taken up residence in Number 12, Grimmauld Place, thanks to the generosity for Sirius Black. It had fallen into disrepair, due to almost twenty years of disuse, but Mrs. Weasley was seeing to it, and it would certainly be restored to the wonderful state it had been, before Mrs. Black had died.

Dumbledore sat in the kitchen, with the other members of the order, with a grim look on his face. They were all mourning, but for very different reasons. Sirius, Remus, and the Weasley's for their lost friend and family member, Harry Potter. Kingsly and Moody for their lost opportunity in slaying Death Eaters and Voldemort. Dumbledore, for allowing the Horcrux to land in Voldemort's hands.

"I...just got him back." Sirius said mournfully, leaning into the shoulder of his childhood friend.

"It's alright, Siri, we'll get him back." Remus promised, hugging him closer, trying to hide his own anguish.

It was at that moment, that Severus was finally able to make his way into the meeting, with a disturbed look on his face. He joined the table, nodding to a few members who did so first, and folding his hands together on the table top. His poster alone spoke of bad news.

"What is it Severus?" Dumbledore asked with a frown, the twinkle in his eyes long gone. "What happened to Harry?"

"Three days ago, when Potter was kidnapped, the Dark Lord decided to 'punish him' for causing his downfall. For nearly ten hours, Potter was placed under numerous curses and hexes, until finally...the Dark Lord ordered me to tend to him. At 3:21 this morning, Harry Potter succumbed to his wounds, and died."

There were gasps, and sobs, cries off outrage and disbelief. Mrs. Weasley had broken down into sobs on her husbands chest, while he hugged her tightly. Sirius had let out a pained howl, and the order mourned once more, for their lost hero.

All but Dumbledore, who was quite pleased with how everything had turned out in his favor. Yes, it _was_ a shame that Harry had to suffer for so long, but it really was poetic justice, that Voldemort had destroyed his own Horcrux.

Snape observed the headmaster out of the corner of his eyes, and snarled at the pleased look on his face. The small smile, the pleased twinkle. It calmed Severus's unease. He knew then that he had done the right thing to betray Dumbledore and his Order of the Bloody Burning Chicken.

But was it _really_ a betrayal? He had promised to fight on Potter's side. Now he was doing _just that._

$%^&*(

Lucius was a very proud man, even from the time he was a child. A lot of his pride, recently, had come from being one of the few that Voldemort had trusted enough, to guard Harry Potter. After his...failure with that diary, this brand new opportunity that had given itself to him on a silver platter, well...he'd be stupid to pass it up.

Him, and a few other, had been called to their Lord's personal chambers. He had them sit down, and made a house elf bring them all tea.

"Now...what I'm asking of you, will no doubt be difficult for you to understand." The Dark Lord began, taking a sip of his drink. "But, Harry Potter has suddenly become very important to my triumph and _our_ victory over the world. I will not explain why, you really don't need to know that, but as for why you are here..."

He put down his cup, and looked them over, glad that he had their attention. "Potter has many enemies, now even Dumbledore can be added to the list. So, if Potter is to remain alive, then he must be protected." He reached into his desk drawer, and pulled out a contract. "I can not be around _constantly_ to watch over him, so I would need you to do it." He slid the parchment over to them. "This contract states, that you, along with Rabstan and Rodolphus when they are liberated, agree to watch over him. You will guard him at all times, further his magic education, and see to his general well being."

Barty gasped, looking at the contract with wide eyes, taking it in his trembling hands. He was the only one of Harry's new guards who knew his _real_ importance. He just _couldn't believe_ that he was placed in charge of a part of his master's _soul._ "My Lord! I-I'm so honored! Yes, I agree, I'll guard Harry Potter with my life."He promised heatedly.

He was the first of the four to sign the contract. Underneath his name, was Lucius, then Avery, and finally Nott. They walked away from their pleased Lord, and down the hallway in silence.

Lucius had gone straight to tell his wife. She had been _extremely_ concerned for his well being but he assured her, that there really wasn't much danger involved. That was...so long as Potter never left the manor ground. The wards would do his work _for_ him practically.

His first day on the job, would be whenever Potter woke. Snape had said, it would be no more then a week, so Lucius wasn't worried quite yet.

$%^&*(

Harry sat up suddenly in his bed, scaring the hell out of the small house else that had been tending to his wounds. The elf quickly popped away before Harry could say anything, leaving him alone in the dark room, without windows. He looked around him, trying to find some kind of shape in the dark. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and stood up, then promptly fell right back down.

He hit his head, against what felt like wooden flooring, and cried out in pain, holding his hand against his forehead where the bump was already starting to rise. He tried to move his legs, but only managed to slide them across the floor. He wondered how long he had been asleep to cause his legs to be so week.

He was just staring to pull himself off of the ground, when the door opened, and a man he had never seen before stepped in. He had high cheek bones and cold blue eyes. Red hair that reached to his shoulder blades, and pale skin. "Mr. Potter..." He said, starting to walk closer to the boy. "I see that you have regained consciousness. The Dark Lord will be pleased."

Harry started to scoot backwards, until his back hit a wall. "G-get away!" He ordered, using his hand like a cat to slash at the air, to fend off the Death Eater. With every slow step the man took towards him, he felt as if the Cruciatus was being placed on his again.

The man chuckled as he made his way into the room, and cast 'lumos' to light it. He put his wand away in his sleeve, then quickly moved towards Harry. When he was standing in front of him. He reached down, and looped his arms under Harry's and awkwardly started to drag him towards his bed.

"No!" Harry screamed, thrashing as hard as he could. "Let. Me. Go!" With every word he hit the man.

"You're being very unreasonable Mr. Potter." He grunted. Finally he managed to fling Harry into his bed, and drape the large duvet over him. "Mimmsy!" He called harshly.

The same elf from before popped into the room, looking frightened. "Y-yes s-s-sir?" She asked, pulling the strap of her bag over her shoulder. "How can Mimmsy be helping you master Avery, sirs?"

"Bring a glass of water and chicken soup for Mr. Potter here." He ordered simply.

He waited until the elf was gone, before grabbing the wooden chair by the boy's bed, and sitting in it. He observed Harry for awhile before saying anything. "Hello, Mr. Potter." He said, trying to make a much kinder face then he had before. "My names is Alexander Avery. It's very nice to meet you." He held out his hand, then seemed a bit put off when Harry didn't take it.

"Well...no matter." He took it back, and stood up. "Don't try and get out of bed, you might hurt yourself." He warned, before making his way out of the room, and locking the door behind him.

Harry didn't. His legs felt far to weak. He jumped slightly when the elf came back, with a tray of food for him. "I'm not eating that." He said, his voice scratchy.

"You must be eating it, Harry Potter sirs." The elf argued, picking up the spoon and holding it out for Harry.

"I'm not eating _anything_ one of _his_ followers wants me too."

"Now, that's very rude Harry." A new voice suddenly said, opening the door. Voldemort quickly came into the room, with Avery guarding the door.

Harry moved to the other side of the bed quickly, pressing his back to the wall. His hair rose on end, making him look like a startled cat. " _Get away from me!_ " He growled, his green eyes widened, in fear and anger.

Voldemort chuckled, but didn't make any move to get closer. "Come now Harry. Didn't you hear me before your punishment? All is forgiven."

"Punishment!? You tortured me for _hours_!" He shouted at the Dark Lord, glaring at him, like he wished the man would just _burst into flames._

Voldemort made a small pouting face, clearly mocking the boy. "Oh my, are you afraid of me now, Harry?" He asked, leaning closer ever so slightly. "Where's that Gryffindor courage?"

Harry growled, his shoulders tense, ready to attack Voldemort if he came any closer to him. But he didn't deny it, and Voldemort noticed it. He let out a small noise of sympathy before crawling next to Harry, and wrapping him in a tight hug. He moved his mouth closer to Harry's ear. "See, my beloved Horcrux? I won't harm you, be calm." He ordered in a soft whisper.

Very slowly against his better judgment, his muscles started to relax. But he could still feel his terror at being so close to the man who had put him through so much pain.

 **Well...here it is, chapter 2. I hope it's everything you wanted it to be. I'm still really surprised by how much people seem to like this. I've never gotten so many fallows/favs on the first day before. Thank you all so much, I love you all to bits.**

 **As for pairings, I'm still not sure if it's Hp/LV yet. I'm open to any suggestions that you guys might have.**

 **As always, have a wonderful rest of your day.**


	3. Dark

**Please enjoy this chapter!  
I don't own Harry Potter  
Please leave me your comments/questions/suggestions and have a wonderful day.  
**

%^&*()

Harry had been awake for a week, and Snape had finally said he was healed enough to leave his room if he wanted to. So he did just that, and left his room. He was, however, unaware that Voldemort had told some of his followers to look after him. It really was rather annoying. He spent most of the days trying to avoid them, but they wouldn't even slip up once. Barty Crouch was especially annoying. He would even let Harry go to the _bathroom_ by himself, standing right outside the door. Harry just considered himself lucky that Crouch didn't stand _inside_ the bathroom instead.

On the last day of June, Harry was walking around the Malfoy's large garden, trying to find the best way to escape from Crouch, without looking suspicious.

"You don't need to stand on my heels you know." Harry said, with an annoyed grunt in his voice.

"Quite the contrary Mr. Potter. The Dark Lord has ordered us, to never let you out of our sights whenever we are watching you." He smiled pleasantly at the raven haired boy, with his arms behind his back.

"Can't you just, not listen to that rule? For five minutes?"

"No."

Harry let out an exasperated groan. He looked at Crouch, who was standing close enough behind him, that he was almost brushing against Harry. He looked around him, passing it off as admiring the flowers. There was no one else around. He blotted.

Crouch was caught off guard, and for a second was confused by the fact his charge was no longer brushing elbows with him, then he started chasing after Harry.

Harry could hear the angry man screaming for him to stop, so he took a sharp right turn, that led into a small apple orchard. He looked at the beautiful, whose fruit hadn't bloomed, but there were light pink and white flowers. He stopped his running, only for a moment to look at them. Then when a branch snapped behind him, not too far away, he started running again.

"Potter!" The aggravated man screamed, slashing some of the branches that hit him with a cutting curse. "I will not hesitate to burn down all of these trees to find you!"

Somehow, Harry couldn't imagine Malfoy being happy about that. Still...he didn't want to take the chance. So he quietly made his way out of the tree line, and back up the marble stairs of Malfoy manor. He looked behind him, and saw Crouch cutting down entire trees.

He ran into the foyer, then shut the large wooden door behind him. There was no one there, as everyone was either with the Dark Lord or in their rooms. It _was_ a little early after all.

He'd been there for an entire week, and had yet to see much of the house, so he figured a self tour wouldn't be that bad of an idea. He started on the left, where he entered into the large dinning room, where meetings were normally held. There were two doors that led to a card room, and a lounge and then into the study. He didn't _dare_ to touch any of Malfoy's things. He wasn't _that_ rude. Through the study, there was a library.

It was...huge. Harmione would have been in heaven. The thought of his old friend brought on a bit of melancholy in his heart. He sat at one of the tables, and wondered how his friends were doing. Were they worried about him? Did they miss him? Because he sure did miss them. He hoped that they were forming some kind of rescue plan, to spring him from Malfoy manor. Despite all the reassurances Voldemort had given him, Harry was sure that he was waiting for any excuse to torture him again. He shivered at the thought.

He eventually made his way around the rest of the house, that wasn't someones room. He settled into another library, on the top floor, and got lost in one of the children's books. He really liked The Wizard and The Hopping Pot. Though he did find the idea of a cauldron that could swallow people a little off putting.

"So _this_ is where you wondered off too?" A familiar snooty voice said, from the entrance of the library. "Didn't anyone ever tell you snooping around other peoples homes was rude, Potter?"

" _Malfoy._ " Ah yes, it seemed the school year was finally over, and Draco Malfoy had returned home.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, Potter. Everyone is ripping the manor apart at the seams looking for you."

"Why are they doing that?"

Draco looked at Harry with a raised eyebrow. He rolled his eyes, and grabbed Harry's sleeve. "Well, after Crouch burned down our orchard -which my mother was not impressed with by the way- he ran straight to the Dark Lord. You are in _so much trouble."_

%^&*()

Harry was, in fact, in trouble. He sat across from the Dark Lord, where the man observed him with cold red eyes. The rest of Harry's guard was also standing against the wall, looking at him with varying degrees of agitation. Apparently they never expected Harry to be a flight risk. He sunk lower in his padded chair.

"Well...first thing's first. How about you tell me _what the hell in Merlin's name were you thinking?_ " The dark Lord growled, oddly calm.

"I...uh..." He wasn't sure how to answer.

"Well!?"

"I just wanted time to myself!" He snapped, then regretted it instantly at the angry look on Voldemort's face.

"Harry." He drummed his long fingers on the desk, still glaring. "I assigned them to watch over you for a reason. Do you _want_ to die?"

"No."

"Then why are you so against this? Are they beating you? Cursing you? Molesting you?"

"What!? No! No to _all_ of that!"

"What is it then? Do you not understand that your beloved headmaster wants you _dead_?"

"I know that. I do...but what danger is there _here_? Behind the wards of Malfoy's unnecessarily extravagant house?"

"More then you think Harry. There could be spies, or other servants who don't understand your importance." Voldemort laced his fingers together. "Sometimes my younger members get a little over enthusiastic. If they just saw you walking around the halls, trust me when I say, they would not show you mercy."

"But you ordered them not to-"

"Not even half of my followers were that day. They'll all know soon, but that won't stop all of them."

Harry looked down at his lap.

"What do you suggest Lucius?" The Dark Lord asked his right hand man.

"My Lord?"

"You have a son only a few months older then Harry here. What would you have me do, as his guardian?"

"I'd cane my son for acting like that. However, I understand that Mr. Potter is like a toddler, in the sense that he'd testing his boundaries. Perhaps he only should be given ten lashes instead of fifty, like I would give Draco."

"Say what?" Harry looked at the aristocrat, then to Voldemort, then to his guards, who all looked like smug bastards.

"Yes, that seems fair." Voldemort nodded his head, ignoring Harry's look of horror. "Someone please bring me a cane." He ordered. Nott moved quickly, casting Harry a dark smirk.

"Whoa there, alright, I get it. I won't run away anymore. I'm almost fifteen, you don't need to beat me with a stick of wood to get the message across." Harry tried to reason with him, short of only actually begging.

"My Lord? If I may?" Malfoy interrupted, hesitantly.

"Speak Lucius."

"You should add ten more lashes, for trying to get out of his punishment."

" _Shut the hell up Malfoy!_ " Harry growled, looking at him with angry green eyes.

"Then maybe ten more for swearing." Avery suggested.

Voldemort thought it over. "So that would be, thirty lashes? That seems reasonable."

Harry just sat there with horror in his eyes, when Nott brought back with a long walking stick made from a light wood. He cast Voldemort one last pleading look, while he took the wood in his hand, and hit his hand with it a few times.

"Put your hands on my desk, Harry." He ordered without pity.

Harry turned around, and bent down slightly, so his palms could rest on the smooth wood surface. The first strike, caused him to yelp, and turn his head in alarm to look at Voldemort, who wasted no time in giving the next, then another, and another.

When it was finished Harry was in tears, his shoulders shaking lightly. Voldemort rested his hand on Harry's back and rubbed it smoothly. "Are you crying?" He asked, even though he obviously was.

"No!" Harry snapped, rubbing at his eyes with his fists turning away from the Dark Lord.

"Don't you understand why I did that?"

"Because I don't want your _lap dogs_ fallowing me?"

The four Death Eaters seemed offended, but the Dark Lord didn't even twitch. "No, because you placed yourself in danger, with caused unnecessary worry and panic. Barty burned something Mrs. Malfoy cared about very much to _find you,_ and you were disrespectful. Now apologize to all your guards _and_ Mrs. Malfoy, then I won't see the need to punish you any more."

Harry gave Voldemort his best impression of a dead fish, but stiffly turned to the four grown men, with a nasty look on his face. "I'm sorry."

Voldemort patted him on the head, messing with his already messy hair. "There, now, Barty please take Harry to Mars. Malfoy. He owes her an apology as well."

"Yes my Lord." He gave a short bow, the dragged Harry by the shirt down the hallway.

%^&*()

Crouch didn't let go until they were standing right in front of Lady Malfoy. She was drinking tea with her son on the terrace of the ball room. Draco looked at him, completely unimpressed, however Lady Malfoy pressed her lips together when she saw Crouch.

"Lady Malfoy, I would like to apologize." Harry said, bowing slightly at the waist. "It was my senseless running that caused the destruction of your beautiful orchard. Please forgive me."

She looked at him for a few seconds, before smiling. "It was not _your_ doing that caused the fire. But yes, I forgive you."

Crouch gave her a dirty look, then dragged Harry away, back to the Dark Lord's side.

%^&*()

Snape walked the halls of his old school friend's home, with a ridged set to his back. There was no one around, as only eight or nine people were currently living there. It was a big house, not that hard to sneak around in. He walked up to the third floor, where the Dark Lord's study was.

He knocked on the door, and waited to be permitted inside. He opened the door slowly, then bowed to his master.

"Rise, Severus." Voldemort said, waving his hand, almost bored to the potions master.

"Thanks you master." He said. He slowly approached the desk. "I have returned from Order headquarters."

"Yes, I can see that." Voldemort rolled his eyes, then gestured for Snape to sit down. "So, what happened then?"

"I told the Order, that Mr. Potter has died."

"Oh?"

"Yes, none of them suspect anything. Not even Dumbledore."

"How can you be sure of that."

"He would have spoken to me about it, My Lord...I risk my life my telling you this. I expect nothing less then death."

"What are you talking about Severus?"

"My Lord, I was in love with Lily Evens. When you killed her, Dumbledore offered me a place at his side, to protect her son. I agreed. I was completely loyal to Dumbledore, until I discovered that he planned to have Potter killed."

Voldemort looked at him angrily, obviously getting the hint. "So then, you betrayed me?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"Then, whose side are you on now?" He demanded, slamming his fist into the desk.

Snape flinched slightly, but made no move to attack or defend himself. "Potter's."

%^&*()

Harry was eating dinner with the Malfoy's. He kept looking down at his plate, feeling far to integrated into the Death Eater's lives. Draco kept looking at him with a frowned brow. It was really awkward. The food was good though, so Harry tried to focus on that instead.

"They had your eulogy on the last day of school." Draco suddenly said, leaning his head against his palm.

"W-what?" Harry looked at him with wide eyes, the spoon he was using slipping out of his hand.

"They all think you're dead. All your friends, the teachers, Dumbledore. They had your funeral too, but because they didn't have your body they just made a marble slab, and gave it to the Weasley's."

"Draco!" His mother scolded him.

Harry gulped, feeling his world suddenly going off center. He gripped the table, looking at Draco with wide eyes. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because...I want you to understand something. You're never getting away from the Dark Lord. He wants you for something, and there's _nothing_ you can do about it." He looked over the other boy with a small smirk. "No one is coming to save you."

"Draco, that's _enough_!" Lady Malfoy grabbed her son's arm and glared at him, completely horrified by her child's cruel words.

Harry looked down at his stew, his hands trembling lightly. He moved his head to look at the three Malfoy's, but none of them moved to try and deny it. Lady Malfoy was even casting him sad glances. Malfoy Sr. had done nothing to stop his son's words, and Draco was still smirking.

In classic Gryffindor style he laughed in the face of danger. "Is that a challenge, Malfoy?" He snarked at him, leaning back in his chair. "Well, I've lost my apatite, I'm leaving." He stood from the table, not caring that he was being extremely rude to the two most influential nobles amongst wizard kind. He quickly made his way out of the dinning room.

He stormed through the halls, not caring for Malfoy who had fallowed him. "You should be with your family." He told the Death Eater, not slowing in his walk.

"Well...I was ordered by the Dark Lord to not let you leave my sight."

"I need to be alone."

"What my son said was uncalled for, but-"

"It was completely true, yeah I know that."

"Then don't be so offended, Mr. Potter."

He shook his head, rounding the corner quickly. "Not offended." He saw Avery standing there with a new recruit, apparently...interested in her. He tugged on the man's sleeve. "Malfoy's eating dinner with his family, you'll have to flirt unsuccessfully later."

Avery looked at the young witch, who giggled, and walked away. Malfoy looked at his irate charge, and nodded his farewell, leaving him alone with the other Death Eater.

"What the hell Potter?"

"Nothing, I want to go to bed."

"It's nine thirty."

"Didn't you hear me?! I want to go to bed!" He shouted, causing the man to take a surprised step back.

His eyes suddenly took on a dangerous shine to them, and he pulled out his wand, pointing it between Harry's eyes. "Listen here you self entitled little shit. Don't you _ever_ talk to me like that again!" He snarled.

"Or what? You'll curse me?"

Avery smirked. "No, I'll tell the Dark Lord, and _he'll_ curse you."

Harry snorted. "I doubt it."

"Oh, really now?" Then entered Voldemort, king of bad timing. When Harry turned around to look at him, he didn't look pleased by his charge's disrespect. He walked forward slowly, looking from his smirking servant to his terrified ward. "So, you _doubt_ I'll curse you?"

"I-I didn't m-mean-"

"Avery, leave. Harry and I apparently need to have a chat." then just like that he was gone, leaving Harry and the Dark Lord alone in the hallway. Voldemort waited until the other man was gone, before turning his furious red eyes back to Harry. "How _dare you_?!" He hissed.

"Please, I...I was just upset, I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Ah, yes, of course. You _didn't mean anything by it._ Why do I find that hard to believe?"

"Sir, I'm begging you I just didn't-"

"Didn't what Harry? You just didn't what?! Think I was listening?!" He shouted in the boy's face.

All Harry could think about was the first punishment he was given, his first day there. Then the caning he had gotten just that day. He wrapped his arms around his midsection, and slowly started to back away, into the wall, taking small, gasping breaths, with every step.

Voldemort wasn't interested in playing games with him, and moved forward to grab his neck, slamming him harshly into the wall, causing a few pictures on the wall to yell in protest. He leaned in closer to Harry, with their noses almost touching. "Listen good, you foolish boy. I don't ever, _ever_ want to hear that you yelled, or disrespected any of my Death Eaters again." He squeezed the boy's neck lightly, only enough to scare him. "Do I make myself clear Harry."

"Yes." He sobbed. Voldemort let go of him, and let him fall on the ground. He curled up on the ground, hiccuping, and rubbing fat tears out of his eyes. It had all just been to much for one day.

"Get off the ground, you look pathetic." Voldemort sneered at him, grabbing his shirt sleeve and forcing him to stand on unsteady feet. "I'm taking you to your room, you're staying there until I come to get you, _understand_?"

"Yes."

Voldemort pulled him down the halls, ignoring the curious Death Eaters who were starting to arrive for a meeting. He opened Harry's bedroom door and pushed him inside, slamming it shut and locking it. He left the fourteen year old in complete darkness, and had yet to give Harry back his wand. The boy moved, until he was sitting against his bed, then slowly climbed on top, under the covers.

He hated darkness. It had always been a fear of him, ever since he was a little boy living under the stairs in the Dursley's house. He wrapped the large blanket around his body, and tried to control his fear, but it wasn't working. If anything, being so tensed up was making everything worse. He grabbed one of the pillows and held it against his face, taking from it, at least some comfort.

%^&*()

Draco's mother had not been happy with him. She had begun scolding him, from the very moment that Potter and his father left, her light blue eyes almost angry with him. "Harry is going through a very difficult transition at the moment, there was no need for you to butt in."

"Mother...Potter already tried to run once. What's to stop him from doing it again?"

"He didn't get a very _warm welcome_ Draco. He's terrified, horrified by the way his life has turned out." She sighed, and rubbed her temples. "We're not sure why, but the Dark Lord wants too keep him, and many people have been speculating that he's being kept for...less then honorable intentions."

"So you're saying the Dark Lord-"

"I'm not saying _anything_ like that Draco, only that people are going to believe what they believe, and Harry Potter is completely isolated from his friends, his family, his way of life, and _you_ did not help."

"Why do you care, mother, he was our enemy less then two weeks ago."

"Well now he's not. Now, he's just a child who is being kept as a prisoner. A comfortable one, yes. But he's still a prisoner." She looked at her son, exasperated. "When you learned of the Dark Lord's return, and that he was living in our house, what was the first thing you thought?"

"That...I'd constantly be around him. I'd never escape."

"Yes, well, in September, you get to go back to school, for Holidays you could even stay there. Harry does not. You get your own room, where the Dark Lord does not have access to your personal belongings. Harry, does not. You are allowed to chose your dreams, and your goals, and do whatever you want. Harry, does not."

Draco was silent.

"He doesn't have any friends here Draco."

He didn't say a word.

"He must be very afraid..."

Draco could never deny his mother what she wanted, when she gave him that look. " _Fine,_ I'll watch after the bloody fool if you're so worried mother."

"Watch your tongue." Then she wrapped him in a hug. "But thank you, my big hearted dragon."

He pretended to be annoyed.

%^&*()

Voldemort left him in his small, windowless room for two days, as a punishment. At first the Dark Lord had to use magic to block out Harry beating on the door, begging and pleading to be let out, then on the second night he was silent. He wasn't dead. He'd made a house elf take care of him.

When he unlocked the door, and summonsed light, Voldemort had found the boy, curled up in the corner with pillows and blankets surrounding him. "What are you doing?" Demanded the Dark Lord, lifting one of the pillows, and looking at Harry's shocked face.

The boy reached up and grabbed the pillow away from Voldemort, and put it back over his head. There were trays on the bedside table with uneaten food, and full cups of water. "Harry?" The Dark Lord took another pillow off, trying to get his attention. "Why didn't you eat or drink anything?" He asked, almost gently.

Harry's eyes widened in fear, and he sunk lower into his pillow fort. He watched Voldemort, like a rabbit, waiting to be devoured by a wolf.

"Come now Harry. You're not honestly still upset are you?" Voldemort asked, reached downwards to make Harry moved away from his fort. He stopped shot, when he got a good look in Harry's frightened eyes. He raised one of his black eyebrows and crouched there for a few seconds, simply waiting for Harry to move. He looked...unhinged. Detached. "Now I see." Voldemort whispered to himself, musing over his options. "I have not been taking very good care of you, have I, my dear Horcrux?" He reached down and ran his fingers through Harry's dirty hair, not minding the violent flinch from the boy.

"I admit, that if I had seen that look on your face a few weeks ago, I would have been overjoyed. Now, I'm very worried. You do have a piece of my soul inside of you after all, what if it was damaged?"

 **A bit shorter then what I would have liked, but not bad.**

 **Also, big thanks to Volesprite69 for giving me a really good idea on how I'm going to take this story. You are my muse, bae.  
**

 **The pairing is starting to make me rip my hair out so I'm going to let you all to vote on that, then be done with it.**

 **Options would be:**

 **Harry/Snape**

 **Harry/Voldemort**

 **Harry/Draco**

 **Harry/other (tell me who)**

 **Please let me know in the comments section bellow.**

 **As always, have a wonderful day.**


	4. Us

**Thank you all so much for the support you've been giving me for this story, it really does make my heart swell.**

 **Leave your comments/questions/sugestions in the comment box bellow.**

#$%^&*

Voldemort was a very proud man, but even he wasn't to proud to admit that he was worried over his young charge. He had called in a healer the second it became clear that something was wrong. It had taken three strong men to hold Harry down on the bed while the doctor inspected him.

"Tell me what's wrong!" He ordered the man, his eyes flashing dangerously.

'Yes, My lord." The man bowed his head, putting his wand away. "Besides malnourishment and dehydration there's nothing _physically_ wrong with him."

"Do you think I'm stupid?! There's obviously something wrong with him, he's-"

"My Lord, while I'm not well versed in muggle medicine, I believe that call his condition PTSD. Or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Perhaps, locking him alone in a pitch black room for a few days, damaged his mind."

The Dark Lord was silent. He looked at the healer, then down at the boy, who had to be tied to the bed posts, and was still struggling like a wild animal. He looked into the green eyes, that were wide, and wild. He placed a hand on the boy's sweaty, matted hair and sighed. "I'm very lucky that he hasn't died, I suppose."

"Yes...if he had gone another day without water, he would have died."

Voldemort was at a loss for words.

* * *

Avery was always annoyed with his charge. Constantly having to babysit the ungrateful brat, making sure he ate the food the Dark Lord wanted him too, keep him in sights at all times. It was hard to set aside his past prejudices, even when the Dark Lord had asked him too. The boy he was told to treat like royalty...was a half blood. A half blood with a _mudblood_ mother. But still, Avery was tasked to act like a servant.

He had to admit, to some feelings of guilt. It was after his confrontation with the child that caused the Dark Lord to do whatever it was he had done. But now...Harry Potter wasn't the same.

Avery, and the rest of Potter's guards, had been told to move all of his things to a room across the hall from the Dark Lord. Specifically with windows, and lanterns to keep the room well lit at all times. Harry hadn't spoken a word in over three weeks. He'd sit in his room, and look at the wall quietly. More often then not, he'd be curled up with blankets.

His magic had been completely out of control. Once, when Crouch was trying to get him out of bed, Harry had accidentally threw him out the window, causing damage that took the rest of the week to fix. He'd caused fires, and explosions, floods, tornadoes. It really was getting out of hand.

So the four guards had all agreed that it was best not to touch Harry very often, until he was healed. But, looking at him, and feeding him, made Avery think of the very bleak possibility, that he might never get better.

On the 29th of August, Voldemort made his first public move, and freed all of his Death Eaters that were imprisoned. It had been blamed by the press, ironically so, on Sirius Black. It only took most of them a week to be healed. Then, the famous Lestrange brothers had joined Harry's guard. To say they were honored by being hand picked for their new position, was an understatement. With all the sappy thanks, and teary eyes, it was enough to rot Avery's teeth right out of his head.

Rabastan was certainly calmer then his older brother, less extravagant. Grumpier. Avery and he had been in the same year at Hogwarts, so they had always been friends. Joining the Dark Lord, they ascended to the top ranks. The honor known as the inner circle.

His brother, Rodolphus, had been just as successful in his works for the Dark Lord. He and his wide Bellatrix were truly a match made in Hell. Both cruel, both powerful, both high in the Dark Lord's favor, neither one much cared for the other, however.

It had been nothing more then a political marriage. Neither one of them wanted children, so that worked out just fine for them. It was unfortunate for them, that they couldn't be divorced. Bellatrix was madly _devoted_ to the Dark Lord, and Rodolphus just couldn't care less.

The two brothers didn't seem to care much fore Harry, either. Maybe it was his half-blood status or his involvement in their master's disappearance. But they would _never_ do anything against what Voldemort had ordered them, and that was 'protect Harry Potter at all costs.' So they settled for a cold indifference when handling the shell shocked child.

* * *

Snape considered himself very lucky to be alive. Oh, there wad a very _harsh_ punishment handed down to him from the Dark Lord's wand, but he was alive. He had hobbled back to his home in Spinner's end, and slumped down in the small twin bed he had in his room.

He didn't want to wake up for a few years, his aching muscles crying out in pain with every move that he made. Every twitch brought on a new wave of agony. Every breath made him wish for death. Though every breath was a blessing.

The Dark Lord had not been happy by his admission of betrayal. Back before the Dark Lord's first fall, Severus had been witness to many of his brutal killings of men and women who thought they could betray him. He shivered at the thought. So he couldn't help but wonder, _why_ the Dark Lord had left him alive?

The question of the century really.

* * *

Voldemort really hated paper work. He could handle anything, even if he didn't like it. But this unending stack of paperwork was starting to rub him the wrong way. Most were him drafting and rewriting treaties with the dark creatures. Merlin's beard were the Vampires picky.

Then there were request forms from his servants, and allies in other countries. Agreements, bargains, compromises, demands. Voldemort couldn't wait to take their countries right out from underneath their feet. He chuckled when he imagined the looks on their faces when they realized they had signed their lives away to him.

But for the moment, he had no choice but to play nice. He took comfort in the fact that he'd be ruling the world one day. The thought made him smile.

He put down his pen, and looked out his window, imagining his perfect world. No muggles, mudblood servants, freedom to practice any magic he and his followers wished. Not to mention the fact that people would bow at his feet for all of eternity. He'd be a god among men. Everything he wanted since he was a child would finally be in his grasp.

Now, with the person who had been said to be the one to defeat him, was now in his possession. Not exactly in a good state at the moment, but Voldemort was sure his charge would get over his dramatic actions soon.

* * *

Harry didn't like his new guards. One of them kept poking him, to see if he could get a reaction. But Harry didn't want to give him a reaction. If anything, it just made him want to talk _less._ In the past weeks, he'd seen a lot more of Draco Malfoy, who was always skulking about him home, with that look on his face like he had just seen something disgusting.

Harry looked at the older Lestrange brother and glared at him. "Get me a glass of water." There was a crash, apparently, Avery had come in to bring him food. He looked positively shocked, that Harry had even managed those words. The way he had been treating the boy recently showed, that he thought Harry was retarded or something. It really pissed him off.

"What?" Rodolphus asked, also surprised. That had been the first time Harry had made any noise around him, but he never expected it to be so abrasive.

"You heard me. I'm thirsty, get me a glass of water." He ordered, giving the man an aggravated look. He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Mr. Potter...you're talking." Avery said, using his wand to clean up the mess he had made, when he dropped Harry's food.

"Water is wet." He paused for a moment. "And also not in my hand, now go get me some Lestrange."

"Excuse me?" The red haired man asked, jutting his chin out, anger flashing in his dark brown eyes.

"I didn't stutter." The teen almost snarled, cocking his head to the side, to give the older Lestrange the dirtiest look.

"How dare you-"

"No! How dare _you_? I hold a piece of your master's soul inside of me. For all intents and purposes, I am your superior. Now get out of here, and _get me a glass of_ water." He stood from his chair, and pointed to the door, settling his green eyes on the man.

Rodolphus drew his wand, and aimed it at Harry's angry face. "You little slug, I'll teach you about _superiors."_

Avery intercepted the spell quickly with a 'Protego' and standing in front of Harry. "Look, he's just a little off his rocker right now." He defended the boy from the other man's wrath. "So, please just go tell the Dark Lord he's speaking again. I'll get an elf to give him water."

Lestrange scoffed. "Fine." He stormed out of the room, looking like he wanted to spit on Harry.

Avery turned to Harry, and grabbed him by the shoulders. "What were you thinking, Potter? He could have really hurt you!"

"He wouldn't dare."

Avery sighed, letting go of the boy to rub his temples. What a laughable thing to say, _he wouldn't dare._ He was itching too. "Potter...can I ask you something?"

"I may chose not to answer. But yes, go ahead."

"You're acting differently-"

"Is that really so strange?" He sat down and crossed his legs, looking at his guard.

"No, no I suppose not. But, is the reason because of what you said? About having the Dark Lord's soul inside of you?"

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"He spoke to me...we merged."

"Merged?"

"He is me, as I am him, yet we are also neither." He would give no answer other then that, no matter how much Avery pestered him.

The Dark Lord came swooping in moments later, his black robes, swishing around his feet, his imposing presence demanding attention. Lestrange was with him. Avery bowed, moving to stand by the wall.

"So then Harry, Rodolphus tells me that you're speaking once more. Have you gotten over your childish fit then?"

Harry looked at the Dark Lord with cold eyes. "No, I'm still angry."

"You knew you deserved to be punished."

"Yes, maybe so. But I didn't deserve to be locked alone in a room with no light for nearly three days."

"Oh, so that's what all this was about then?"

He grit his teeth, and squinted his eyes. "Get out, I don't want to see you right now."

Voldemort's face went a pale pink color, his red eyes narrowing dangerously. "Obviously, you didn't learn your lesson."

"Obviously, you don't know how to take care of your Horcruxs."

He quickly turned to his servants who were watching the exchange with wide eyes. "Get out, both of you. Harry and I are not to be disturbed."

Harry watched, as the Dark Lord circled him. "You seem surprised."

"I did not expect you to become self aware, Tom."

"I've always been self aware, it just took some time to realize what I was."

"So then, what happened to Harry?"

"As I said to Avery. I _am_ Harry. I am _also_ Tom. Yet, being both Harry and Tom means that I am neither."

"Who are you then?"

"Whoever I wish to be. For now, I am Harry."

"There's still the matter of your disrespect of me, in front of my followers."

"I will not permit you to punish us, in the way that you have been. Don't ever raise your want to me again."

"Or you'll do what?"

"Die."

So simple a word could cause such a reaction from the man. He grabbed Harry by the collar of his shirt, and slammed him against the wall. "You will not, threaten to hurt yourself again!" He snarled into his face, tightening his grip.

"That's just it, Voldemort. I won't kill myself, you will." He slapped the man's hand off of his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. "If you continue to assault us like you have been, then there is no question we will die within the year."

"I will not allow that to happen."

"I am not strong. This body is delicate, and must be treated with great care, yet you have not done that. Does your immortality mean so little to you, that you would risk our destruction, simply for your pride."

"It was never my intention to-"

"Yet you did. Had it not been for Tom, I would be dead. You almost lost you Horcrux. So you will not raise your wand against us again."

Voldemort look his charge in the eyes and nodded. He was making sense though. The thought of being so close to mortal once more, made him shiver. "I will not raise my wand to you again. But...disrespect will always be punished."

"I expected nothing less." He rubbed his temples, feeling a headache of pure annoyance starting.

* * *

Word traveled fast that Harry Potter had regained some of his sanity, and the Dark Lord's followers all wanted to catch a glance. They all wondered how their master could go from wishing him dead...to in some twisted way...raising him. Was it some new power? They wondered. Could it be, our master is under a spell?

But no. Snape knew better. Snape knew what had happened to the boy. How there was another soul trapped within his body. Or maybe Harry's soul was trapped. Either way it didn't matter, he'd already made his choice to protect him, be it Voldemort's Horcrux of Harry Potter. "Merlin, I don't even make sense when I'm talking to myself." He sighed, and sat at the chair provided for him at the meeting table. He nodded his head to Yaxley who was giving him a strange look.

"Are you...alright, Severus?"

"Just fine Jonathan."

All conversation ended when the Dark Lord took his seat at the head of the table. He folded his hands in front of him, not bothering to look at his servants. during the meetings he didn't tend to talk much. He'd call on someone who had a job, demand a progress report, punish them if it was unsatisfactory, and reward them if it was. Then the cycle would repeat. At the end of each meeting, he'd make an announcement of some kind, then he'd leave.

"Tomas?" Voldemort asked softly, as he turned to a man far from him, on the left. "How is the giant recruitment coming?"

"Well, you see sir...it was completely not my fault, no one's fault, really."

"Out with it." He demanded impatiently.

"It seems, that Dumbledore's man, Hagrid...has already, recruited four out of six tribes."

Silence, and then: "Crucio."

The man fell to the floor, screaming in agony. He slammed his head on the ground, until the Dark Lord lifted the spell. He gasped for breath, until he climbed back onto his chair.

"What about you, Lucius? Any progress with the Vampires?"

"Yes sir!" The blond man answered instantly. "The nine clans we've contacted have agreed to side with us, as soon as they're finished with the treaties, and the other three, are waiting for your signature."

"Very good, Lucius, very good indeed."

Then on and on it went, until it was Snape's turn.

"Do you have anything to report from Dumbledore's order, Severus?"

"Yes...the giants, as you already know. Dumbledore is sending Lupin off to ask the werewolves to join their side, Dumbledore made the announcement to us, that Nevil Longbottom is the one chosen to defeat you."

Voldemort threw his head back and laughed. "How...charming." He ran his slim fingers through his hair, and smirked. "Ah, how grand. The brave champion, Longbottom. How I tremble in my boots." Along with his joke came several forced laughs, and a few genuine ones.

* * *

Draco was glad to say, the Dark Lord still thought he was too young to be a Death Eater. Ecstatic, really. It used to be, induction at 15, but the Dark Lord had changed it to 16 instead. So he had one last year of true freedom, that wasn't even free when one considered the fact that the Dark Lord lived in his _house._ But for the next two years, Draco could take comfort in the fact that he would be at Hogwarts for the next two years.

"But then what?" He wondered out loud, closing his book. He placed it on a table, and leaned back in his plush chair. He really saw no point in think about it so much. It was going to happen eventually, so he figured it best to simply enjoy what time he had left, then accept his fate.

They were finally starting to change the tide in the war, in their favor. So, he imagined that the war would be over only after a few years. At least he hoped so. He felt he was far to an important person to have to be in an active fight against Dumbledore and his supporters.

He placed a hand over his face and groaned.

 **Well...Seems like Harry's got some issues he needs to work through. I guess Harry...or Tom...Harom, if you want, refers to themselves as 'us or I' which was confusing while I was writing, yet interesting all the same. (You could also call him...them(?) Terry.)  
**

 **So far the voting is:**

 **Harry/Draco:2**

 **Harry/Snape:1**

 **Harry/Voldemort: 4  
**

 **Harry/Other: 5  
**

 **Voting will be allowed only until the next chapter. So cast 'em in quick.**

 **I really love reading your ideas, it makes me really think about what I can do with my writing.**

 **Another thing. I _really_ need a Beta for this story, if anyone is interested, just let me know and we can talk about it. **

**And as always, have a wonderful day.**


	5. Short

**Well, lookie here, a shiny new chapter.  
**

 **Please leave your comments/questions/and sugestions in the review box bellow. Thank you.**

* * *

Harry stood in front of the mirror, looking at his choppy hair. "What do you think?"

"Tie it up, honestly, with wizards long hair is a sign of wealth and style."

"It's strange though...my hair has never been this long."

"It makes us look nice, I think."

He shrugged, and grabbed one of the hair ribbons. He brushed his dark hair, and used a band to tie it up first, before making a bow with the green ribbon. He supposed that Tom was right. They looked a little older, with a few strands of hair framing his face. He pulled his round glasses off his face. He needed to get something else. He was sure that there was a spell that could fix his eyes. The bulky, taped, monstrosities made him look positively idiotic.

"They say that talking to yourself is the first sign of madness." The voice of Alexander Avery interrupted him, opening his door without permission.

"Do I even need to tell you how rude that was?" Harry asked, turning his unamused gaze to Avery.

"No...I just didn't figure your cared."

"I guess not."

"So...?" The man said, trailing off as he sat on the chair in the corner of the room. "Why were you talking to yourself anyways?"

"The merging, is incomplete. For the moment."

"You mean that weird, soul thingy?"

"...Yes..."

Harry couldn't keep his attention on the man for very long, still worrying over being dressed for the day. While it seemed a little vain standing in front of a mirror for at least and hour, he couldn't help but fuss about his appearance. After all, people would be more likely to take him seriously if he looked put together.

"Wow Potter, you clean up nicely." Avery said, walking up behind him.

"I'll chose to take that as a complement." Harry said, making the final touches on his hair, sighing in frustration when a few strands wouldn't lay flat. He cursed his father's genetics.

"Here, let me help." Avery grabbed a few pins, and adjusted it, until only a few of the most stubborn stuck out around his face. "There, now it looks like it was done on purpose."

"Thank you, Avery."

"Meh, I think we've gotten to first name basis, don't you? Just call me Alex."

"Call us Harry then." Harry agreed, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"Fine. Anyways...the Dark Lord sent me here. He wants to see you."

"I should have known that this wasn't a social call." His joked, smirking at the man in the mirror. "Fine, tell him I'll be there momentarily.

"I cannot return to him, with out you. I don't wish to be tortured."

"Understandable. Sit and wait."

Harry spent another ten minutes, making sure that everything was in its right place. He inspected his jawline, and frowned at a few small red dots that littered his face. _'Ah, yes, the joys of being a teenager.'_ He thought, but he that it was good enough.

* * *

Avery walked Harry down the long winding hallways, neither making any conversation. The teen watched the prorates that gave him strange looks. They had heard of both his blood status and his past stance in the up coming war. He would smile at the dead Malfoy's politely, and keep on his way.

"He's waiting for you in there." Avery said, gesturing to the door of the Dark Lord's study.

Harry smirked at Avery and rested his hand on the taller man's shoulder. "Good boy, Alexander." He whispered, half closing his eyes.

The man recoiled slightly, completely caught off guard by the flirty tone in Harry's voice.

"I was only kidding. There's no need to be so flushed." He laughed softly, then opened the door to Voldemort's chambers.

* * *

"You called for me?" Was the first thing out of his mouth as he sat in the chair across from his guardian.

"Yes. Thirty minutes ago. What in Merlin's name took you so long?" Voldemort demanded, hands tightening around his owl quill.

"Nothing, really. I just didn't see the point in rushing here."

"I expected you to come as soon as I called."

"Well I didn't."

Voldemort didn't say a word as he got up and walked around his desk. He stood in front of Harry, before raising his palm, and striking him across the face. Harry's head snapped to the side, and he let out a small gasp. "Why are you so disrespectful?" The Dark Lord asked, resting his hand on the boy's stinging cheek. "All you needed to do was say sorry, there was no need for cheek. I might not be able to torture you with magic, but I can still hurt you Harry."

He clenched his teeth together. He wanted to smack Voldemort right back, but that would get him nowhere. He looked down at the ground, his tongue not letting him say what he wanted. Slowly, the Dark Lord pulled his hand away from Harry's cheek and he returned to his desk, as if nothing had happened. "What did you want?" Harry asked quietly.

"Yes. Well...your birthday is in three days. You're having a party." The Dark Lord said, as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't just hit Harry. "You can go now."

Harry sat there, looking at the man with his mouth hanging open. He clenched his hands and stood, though his height alone was not very intimidating. "You said your wouldn't hurt us again!"

"No." Voldemort answered, not even bothering to look up at the teen. "I said I would never raise my wand to you again."

"But how could you think it's okay for you too-!?"

Voldemort grabbed him from across the desk, and slammed him down, holding him in place by his longer hair. "Because you belong to me. Every part of you, is _mine._ I own your body, your life, you mind. I can do whatever I want to. Even if I wanted to kill you, you're holding a piece of my soul inside of you, so I can just do whatever it is that pleased me."

"You don't _own_ me!" He shot back, struggling to stand from where he was being held.

"Harry...don't be foolish. You'll always belong to me. Now, and until the day you're rotting in a hole in the ground."

 **Well, now that voting is over, I have a clear idea on what I'm going to do with the plot. If you looked, you would have seen that LV/HP won...but have no fear my friends who wanted something different. Everyone who thought of a different pairing can thank Randomplotbunny for giving me a good idea.  
**


	6. Birthday

**Well...I'm** ** _not_** **dead. So there's that.**

Alexander Avery was a very passionate lover. The second he had left Voldemort, Harry practically threw himself into the arms of The Dark Lord's servant. They both knew that it wasn't anything serious. Didn't really mean anything. It was just Avery getting off and Harry blowing off steam. When they were finished, they laid on Harry's bed, until the guard told the teenager that he needed to leave and attended to other duties. "Goodnight, Alexander." Harry said, turning over in his bed and cuddling under the sheets.

He smirked in satisfaction at the thought of Voldemort's reaction to what Harry and Avery had done. He couldn't even feel bad that his servant might be tortured, even killed, for having sex with one of Voldemort's play things. "Is this your influence?" He asked Tom, looking up at the ceiling.

"But of course. Young Harry Potter would never be so cruel." The dark voice chuckled.

"No, he wouldn't."

"But you have to admit, Avery was better in bed then we expected."

Harry laughed, and slipped his legs over the edge of the bed. "I wonder how _he's_ going to react?"

"Not well at all."

* * *

Tom was right. Voldemort was furious. Not for any clear reason, other then the fact that sex was tainting the shred of his soul that was inside Harry's body.

"But did you forget _my lord_ it's not longer just in my body, but has molded onto my own soul. In other words, fucking my way through the ranks of your men and women won't do a thing." He tucked his hair behind his ears and smirked at him. "Besides, it keeps me happy and quiet. Which means I have no reason to bother you when I have nothing better to do."

"Get out of my sight."

It wasn't a no, so Harry was allowed to do as he pleased, as far as he was concerned.

* * *

Harry was getting ready for his obligated birthday party. Fifteen years old, only two away from being an adult. He tightened the tie around his neck and admired himself. "Sharp." He said softly, smoothing down his stubborn locks of hair.

He looked over to his bed where the young pureblood girl was resting. She hadn't been anything special, very inexperienced, very prude. But sex was a lot like chocolate. Even when it's bad, it's still good. He walked over to her, and shook her shoulder. "Greengrass. You need to go." He said when she opened her eyes.

"Oh...yeah." She sat up, with the sheets around her chest, shielding herself from Harry. "See you...at your party then." She gathered her clothes and quickly made her way from the room."

"I don't really like taking women to bed." Tom said, turning them back to the mirror.

"You'd be denying yourself half of the world's pleasures Tom."

"But she's going to cling to us _all night_ and she might even ask us to marry her."

"Imagine her humiliation when I explain to her that I didn't really enjoy our time together enough to fuck her more then once, let alone marry her."

Tom chuckled softly. "Alright, let's go. It's impolite for the guest of honor to be late."

* * *

Voldemort was in a particularly bad mood that night, casting his charge dark looks. They sat in the banquet hall, with many loud and drunk people, who were enjoying the feast in Harry's honor.

"I don't understand why you're so angry at me." The teen said, leaning his chin on his hand. "I haven't said more then twenty words to you all night, and yet you're acting like I snapped your wand."

The Dark Lord drummed his fingers against the table and took a drink of his wine. "You were late."

 _'Told you so.'_ Tom whispered in their head with a chuckle.

"I'm sorry... but I was attending to other matters." He said simply, waving his hand like it was nothing. "Honestly it wasn't really worth it, rather disappointing really."

"Then why were you late?"

"It took her awhile before she took the hint and left."

The Dark Lord took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "This is starting to get out of control." He said slowly, quietly. "Please...learn to restrain yourself. If you are expected to attend social events such as this, please save those activities until _after._ "

Harry looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "You won't forbid me?"

"No."

Harry shrugged and stood up, raising his glass and tapping it. "Excuse me." He said, his voice very polite and strangely meek. The hall began to slowly quiet. "Thank you." He cleared his throat. "I'd very much like to thank each and everyone of you for attending this special day for me." He gave them all a charming smile as they clapped. "Yes, yes, thank you. So...let's clear these tables out to the side and began the actual dancing part of this get together."

It was thanks to Tom, that their feet glided along the floor so gracefully with his partners. He'd smile charmingly at them and make them feel inferior.

"You're enjoying yourself far too much." Narcissa Malfoy said with a charming smile of her own. She let him lead her across the room, and spin her around gently. "I would have thought you'd be sulking."

"I don't _sulk_ my lady." He informed her, raising her off the ground slightly like the other men did to their dance partners.

"You're right." She said innocently, before a wicked smile crossed her face. "You pout."

He looked at her, very clearly amused.

"There's no need for you to be so fussy little one." She said, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

"Please don't."

She laughed quietly. "I have a question. How have you and my son been getting along this past month?" She asked him.

"We haven't spoken."

The song ended, and the two bowed to one another. She sighed sadly and put her hand on his cheek. "GO and find him. I very much hope that the two of you can be friends."

He weighed his options and nodded. "I'll try for your sake dear lady."

* * *

He and Draco stood off to the side with glasses of wine in their hands. Tom observed the young aristocrat with an emotionless face, taking a sip of his drink. "Your mother wants us to make nice with us."

"She pities you." Draco snapped back nastily.

"No. She's just a very kind woman who sees a young boy her son's age who needs friends and allies among a den of people who would gladly rip him to shreds and feed him his own heart."

The older teen looked a little stunned. "You've thought a lot about this haven't you?"

"Yes." Harry said, looking away, and staring dead in the eyes of a man who he _knew_ was speaking ill of him. The man had enough sense to turn away.

"You've gotten yourself a bit of a reputation in these past days."

"It was four people I don't see how that's a big-" He cut himself off when he saw Draco's face. "Oh...you weren't talking about _that_ then."

"About what?"

Harry chuckled gently, strangely husky, coming from his chest. "If I'm drunk enough, and can't find any better options...you _will_ find out."

Draco rolled his eyes, clearly not deciphering Harry's meaning. "Is it true you're nuts?" He asked. "That you're two people."

"No to your first question, yes to your other."

"How does that even work...like in your head."

"You wouldn't understand. There are literally no words I can think of to describe this and what we see, how we interact."

"Does it hurt?"

"No." Harry shook his head. "It feels like I'm complete."

"It's weird."

"It is."

* * *

He spent most of his night alone after his strangely pleasant chat with Draco. Tom had been right in saying that...he'd already forgotten her name. He'd been right to think that Greengrass would cling to him the second she spotted him alone. She was annoying as hell.

"Get your hands off of me." He ordered her harshly. "You're annoying and you smell bad from the perfume you must have _bathed_ in." He pulled his arm away from her shocked form. "Now go away, or I'll make sure your father learns of what we did together. You'd be a disgrace."

She ran away crying.

When the party was finished he downed another glass of wine and made his way to Draco's side. "Hey, Draco." He said smoothly.

"Can I help you?" The blond asked.

"Yes." He leaned in closer. "Come to bed with me tonight Draco. I'm feeling...lonely."

He took a few steps back and looked at Harry like he had grown a second head. "How much wine did you drink?"

"Three glasses. Now...yes or now?"

* * *

* **LIME** *****

Draco roughly pushed Harry down onto his comfortable bed. The raven haired teen looked around the blond's room and smirked. "You have a thing for dragons?" He gasped softly when Draco leaned down and kissed him roughly, and bit his lip. The older slowly made his way down Harry's neck, and nipped at his collar bone. "I take it you're a bit experienced?"

Draco gave him no answer. He ran his hands gently against Harry's side, and started to pull off his shirt. His grey eyes were calculating as he looked at Harry's bare chest and smirked. "You look soft."

"Excuse you?" Harry said moving to sit up, before being pushed back down.

"Soft and strangely delicate for someone so cruel." Draco taunted him, then went back to kissing the skin. He gently suckled at one of Harry's light pink nipples and let himself give another smirk when Harry let out a high pitched mewl. "Oh Merlin, did you hear yourself? How sweet." He started to unbutton Harry's pants, then slowly pulled them off and tossed them to the ground.

"D-Draco." He called the boy's name softly, a light blush on his cheeks. When he was with someone intimately like he was, he and Tom didn't feel the need to be cruel and harsh. The bedroom wasn't the time for that.

He reached up and almost ripped Draco's shirt right off of him, but firm hands stopped him, and helped him undress the blond boy. They were both completely exposed, but neither one of them was ashamed of it.

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's neck and pulled himself closer, so their noses touched. He smiled at Draco. "Go ahead, so what you want to me."

"What a charming idea...do you prefer Tom or Harry?"

"Either is fine."

"Alright then, _Tom._ Let's-" The door opened and the two teens heads quickly snapped to the side to see who had interrupted them.

 ***Lime end***

Lucius Malfoy and Barty Crouch looked at the two with gaping mouths. Malfoy opened and closed his mouth a few times before he managed to find his voice again. "The Dark Lord requests your presence."

"All hail the king of bad timing Ladies and Gentlemen."


	7. Assassin

**Nananananana chapter**

"You asked to see me?" Harry said, entering the Dark Lord's study. The man didn't seem to be in a particularity bad mood, so Harry saw no point in antagonizing him. He sat in the wooden chair across from him, and raised his chin slightly.

"Lord Greengrass came to speak to me about his daughter tonight." Voldemort started, lacing his fingers. "He was very angry that you laid with his daughter?"

" _Laid?_ " Harry shook his head and laughed softly. "Well...what are you going to do about it? Are you going to make me marry her?"

"No. Lord Greengrass disowned her. It doesn't matter any longer."

They looked at Voldemort with confusion. "Why are you so calm about this?" He sat up straighter, somehow knowing that a new punishment was just around the corner.

"I'm calm...because Lord Greengrass has another daughter, and three younger sons. What happened to the eldest girl is of no concern. _However..._ " His eyes grew sharper. "However...there are many pureblood families with only one daughter, and if they discovered you had fucked then, they'd give me the choice between having you marry her, or them leaving my side."

"You'd kill them if they did that."

"I would. Which would mean I'd lose even more followers." The Dark Lord sighed.

"So, I'll ask again, what do you want me to do?"

"You _will not_ have sex with the only daughters of pureblood families." He said.

"Just...only daughters?"

"Yes. Now leave, I have work to do."

* * *

He didn't go back to Draco after his meeting with the Dark Lord, like he would have wanted to, but it was a little...awkward when Lucius was standing right next to him. He walked back to his room, in silence with the man looking at the portraits that scoffed at him, for his rude demeanor.

"Why my son?" the aristocrat suddenly said.

"Huh? Oh, well...the same reason as everyone else I guess, because I felt like it at the time."

Lucius shoved him against the wall, his eyes angry, dangerous. "My son is _not_ your play thing."

Harry pushed his hand away, like he was brushing off dust. "It's not like he wasn't completely willing. He knew that it wasn't anything serious."

"Stay away from Draco you little half-blood piece of trash!"

Tom tilted his head to the side and smirked at the man. "Just for that...no. Now get your hands off me, or I'll tell your master. I don't think he'll appreciate it."

* * *

Harry hadn't been given the opportunity to corner the Malfoy heir, so he entertained himself with other things. Such as causing his guards to have grey hairs early. He climbed to the top of the tree, smirking down at Barty, who looked about to pass out.

"Get down from there, right now."

"Nope."

"Please?"

"Nope, nope, nope."

"I'll tell the Dark Lord" He threatened.

"I'll tell him you hit me."

Barty's face turned pale. His nostrils flared and he pulled out his wand. "Get down here now Potter, or I'll make you!" He screamed.

"Then saying you hit me, wouldn't be too far from the truth, would it?" Harry laughed softly. He watched the internal turmoil work itself out in Barty's head. He loved how fluster thirty-five year old man could get. "No need to hurt yourself." Harry slipped out of the tree. "I was just playing around.

* * *

"We don't really have much to do, do we?" Tom asked, while they laid down on their bed, looking at the wall.

"No, not really. I had expected Voldemort would have at least made us attend a few meetings."

"Maybe he's embarrassed of us?"

"I've been thinking about that. Maybe we need to be more active, politically. I doubt that we've been getting any respect from other, lounging around and fucking."

"Aren't you content with that?"

"No. We should take up a cause."

"Like house elf rights?"

"Merlin no! I meant more like...education maybe?"

"That should be for _after_ the war. If you want a cause that bad, maybe we could use our powers of seduction to gain treaties with countries that are more...reluctant. We have a good head on our shoulders, and we _know_ the members of the resistance on a personal level, we could help with strategy. We won't fight though."

"Why?"

"We're delicate."

"Are _not._ "

Tom was silent for awhile. "Maybe...that's a good thing." He chuckled lowly. "How against you are the idea of killing?"

"Less and less as the days go by."

"We make such cute noises when we're in...intimate situations, I doubt anyone would see it coming."

"That's...actually a really good idea." Harry smiled and sighed. "But the king of bad timing would never let it happen."

"So we won't tell him, until we bring him the head of let's say...Martian Higgs?"

Harry sat straight up and gasped in horror. "He'd kill us before we ever got the chance to make it to his bed."

"Not true. Yes, he's a fierce fighter, but he has a certain weakness."

"Let me guess, pretty young girls?"

"We're lucky that he doesn't discriminate."

"Fuck it...let's do it."

* * *

He told Voldemort that he was going to a party, and the Dark Lord had just assumed he was going to some Pureblood bash to get laid again. Well...he wasn't wrong. Harry put a powerful spell on his scar, hoping to all that was listening that he wouldn't be recognized. Surprisingly enough, there were some parts of the world where his face wasn't a household picture. Thank Merlin.

He slipped into the party, posing as the youngest son of a Light lord who couldn't make it. He charmed the socks of both the men and the women there, with his soft voice, and hesitant words. They were so unlike the Dark nobility, who thought such things were a sign of weakness.

He was dancing with an older woman, when he caught sight of the host for the first time that night. The man looked his way, and raised a glass when they locked eyes. Harry felt something rise up in his throat, finally letting it sink in that he was going to kill that man.

When the song ended, the poor fool made his way over to Harry's side. "How old are you?" was the first thing he asked.

"Sixteen, sir."

"And your name?"

"Phillip."

"How cute." He titled Harry's chin up and looked at his smooth face. "You're just a little lamb, what are you doing trying to entice grown men."

Harry blushed and turned his face away. "I'm not a little boy anymore sir! I can make my own choices."

"When does your family expect you to return home?"

"Before three o'clock, sir."

He pulled Harry close and looked into his bright green eyes, making the boy feel a spark in his groin. Had this been any other situation, Harry was sure he'd keep this man as a partner a few _dozen_ times.

"If we're going to bed together, then please, don't call me sir."

Harry stood on his toes, so he could whisper into the man's ear. "Would you prefer master?" He asked seductively.

The man chuckled lowly with arousal. "So, I won't be your first then, little vixen?"

"No, _master."_

* * *

 ***Short, sort of non-descriptive Lemon.***

It was an hour and a half before Martian finally dragged him to bed. It wasn't as slow as he was used to his partners being. He pushed Harry down onto the bed, and kissed him passionately. Harry was genuinely thrown off guard, by how quickly the man took his breath away.

Before he really knew what was happening, neither of them were in their clothes, and Higgs, was slowly pumping Harry's half hard member. He leaned closer to the green eyed teen and smirked. "You seem out of your mind child, should I stop?"

"No!" Harry grabbed his shoulders, and pulled them chest to chest. Tom was warning him in the back of their mind, that he needed to be more careful. But even Tom was having a hard time keeping his head straight. "Please, I need you inside of me right now!"

"You're not a very patient child are you?" He leaned down and kissed Harry's shoulder, then nipped his soft skin lightly. "Beg." He whispered, running his free hand over his chest.

"Please sir, I'm going crazy!" Harry whined, arching his back, and trying to tempt Higgs to give him what he desperately wanted.

"I suppose that will do..." He pulled out his wand, and tapped it against Harry's thigh. The young assassin's eyes widened, when he felt his insides become slicker. He shuddered at the pleasant feeling. "Forgive me, but I'm feeling a little...impatient." With one quick motion of his hips, he was up to the hilt inside of Harry.

Harry whimpered softly, straining his muscles to accommodate the sudden intrusion. It did feel really good, making Harry almost forget why he was there in the first place. He knew that he couldn't wait until Higgs was less distracted, after they had done the deed, so he grabbed Higgs's wand and pointed it at him. The man's eyes widened, but he didn't even have the chance to do anything before Harry had uttered the severing charm and his head rolled to the floor.

Harry quickly pushed the dead man's body off of him and pulled on his clothes, as alarms began to blare loudly. He grabbed the head, stuffed it into a bag, and grabbed the protkey right as the door burst open.

 ***End Lemon***

He landed in his room and looked at the bloody bag he was holding. "Do you think he'll be proud."

"He might just kiss us." Tom responded opening it up, and looking at the permanently surprised expression on the man's face. "Let's go show him now."

* * *

When they entered his office, covered in blood, Voldemort's first thought was that someone had attacked them, and he was furious.

"What do you think of Martian Higgs?" Tom asked, hiding the bag from view.

"If he wasn't so rich, he'd be bellow my notice. Now please tell me who cursed you."

"No one. This isn't our blood. Now, what are you planning to do to Mr. Higgs?"

"Why so interested?" The Dark Lord asked, growing suspicious. "Did _he_ do that to you?"

"He's related. Now, what are you planning to do to him?"

"I was thinking about sending one of the new recruits to his mansion to kill him, but after seeing the state he left you in-"

Tom slammed the bag on the desk. "I said it wasn't our blood, didn't I?"

The Dark Lord looked into the bag and then quickly back up at his charge.

" _Please_ don't tell me you're angry." Harry said.

"No..." Voldemort smiled, and rested his palm against the boy's head. "I'm positively thrilled."


	8. Capture

Harry walked through the gardens with the oldest Lestrange brother guarding him. The older man watched the teen like a hawk, obviously ready for Harry to run. Smart man.

"You've made _quiet_ the name for yourself these past few months." The redheaded man suddenly said, plucking a flower from its stem. "Black Widow."

"Oh...should I be honored that you know me by that name?"

The man chuckled and shook his head. "Any true assassin should be ashamed."

"Excuse you?"

"An assassin, shouldn't have their name in the paper. A true assassin is a thing of nightmares." He handed the purple flower to Harry and smirked. "Your targets shouldn't be able to tell if you're real...or not."

"What would you know of it, Lord Lestrange?" Harry asked, genuinely curious. "You do know that I'm doing this _for_ the attention, don't you?"

"An assassin with a habit, is already dead. Unless they are very skilled fighters. Unless they are stealthy. Unless they are quick witted. I'm sorry to say, Black Widow, but you are none of these things."

Harry looked at the smirking lord with a gaping mouth. He opened it, and closed it a few times, yet still unable to find the right words to put the smirking bastard in his place.

"But...you could be. With the right teacher." With that, he bowed low, as the Dark Lord approached, fallowed closely behind by Bellatrix. "Think it over, Black Widow."

The Dark Lord came closer, with the strangest smile of victory on his face. "Harry, how wonderful to see you." He said, sweeping his black hair from his eyes. "I trust your evening will be productive?"

"I'm sure it will be as well, but this woman...is a tough target. One misstep, and she'll have me captured and brought to Dumbledore."

"Then you better not misstep." There was a dangerous edge to The Dark Lord's voice.

"We will not."

* * *

Bellatrix was an infuriating woman. From the moment that she got her hands on him, after her husband had told her what Harry's association was to Voldemort. Now that she knew that Harry held a piece of The Dark Lord's soul, and was a key element to his living forever, she had decided that she was the closest thing to a child she would ever have.

"Harry dear, eat your carrots, they'll give you good eyesight." She lectured him at lunch, when she noticed that he wasn't eating much.

"I'm fine Bella."

She pouted, and picked up his fork, holding it to his mouth. "Eat it for me, please Harry darling?"

He sighed and bit it, rolling his eyes at the smug look that her husband was giving him.

* * *

"Do we have anything else?" Tom asked, checking through their bag, looking at everything critically.

"Yes...Madam Malina will never see it coming." Harry said, shoving his wand in his holster.

"Is what Lestrange said bothering you that much?"

"Only a bit."

* * *

His next mark was unlike the others. She was a lovely young woman who was an active member of the Order of the Phoenix. She wasn't rich, but bringing back her head, had been a personal request from the Dark Lord. Harry wasn't sure why, but he wasn't one to ask questions when he was given orders.

He found her drinking alone in a bar, just west from the border between France and England. Harry sat next to her and smiled at the bartender. He remembered what Voldemort had told him to say. A password that Snape said was supposed to be used in that bar, for Dumbledore's informant. "May I please have an Order of the Phoenix fire whiskey?"

Her head snapped up, and she looked at him intensely. Harry drank half of the glass, just as he was instructed. Her features smoothed over and she turned her body towards him. "We should speak somewhere more privet."

"I agree."

She led him to the room she had been staying in. He sat at the chair by the writing desk watching her as she locked the door. "Lord Dumbledore didn't say you'd be so young."

"Even the young must do their part for the war." Harry said reasonably.

"Yes, it's sad but true, to defeat Voldemort even someone as young as you must fight." She smiled at him mischievously. "But perhaps, with this..." She went to her trunk and pulled out a wrapped package, and handed it to him. "Maybe we won't have to fight to begin with?"

He unwrapped it and felt like ice had settled in his stomach.

Helga Hufflepuff's cup. One of the Dark Lord's horcruxs. "How did you get this?" He asked her, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

"Remus Lupin stole it. From the Lestrange vault." She smirked. "Apparently the Dark Lord doesn't keep his important things safe."

Harry took a deep breath. "Do you have any idea what this is?"

"Yes, Dumbledore told me. It's a horcrux, just like you...Harry Potter." He didn't get the chance to draw his wand and defend himself before she had cursed him, and sent him into unconsciousness. Yet all he could think of was how angry Voldemort was going to be when he discovered that Harry had been kidnapped.

* * *

"My Lord!" Lucius rushed into the throne room, waving the Daily Prophet back and forth above his head. He took a few deep breaths before bowing to his master. When he stood again he handed the Dark Lord the recent issue of the daily prophet.

 **Harry Potter: The next Dark Lord?**

 **Recently, Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry has been behind the capture, of a young man we all believed to have been killed by Sirius Black. However, it seems, that the once brave boy hero, had been _working with_ the Death Eaters that had recently escaped Azkaban prison. That's right folks, you read that right. It is with a heavy heart that I must inform you, our beloved boy who lived, is now a Death Eater. But not only that dear reader, no, as if that wasn't enough, he is also believed to be the famed 'Black Widow' who has killed fifteen people in the last three months alone. **

**He has been taken to Hogwarts school, where he will remain under protective custody, until his trial, which will determine what his sentence will be**

 **Truly, we are all shocked.**


	9. That He Did

**Have any of you seen Nana? 10/10 would recommend. I've decided to change the pairing from HpxLV because I honestly don't think either of them could think of each other like that at this point. So, I'm not sure who other will be yet, but we're not even ten chapters in, so we got some time.**

* * *

Harry woke up with a pounding head, and an aching body. It'd been the same for the past two weeks. He hardly ever got a moments rest, and they were always _questioning_ him. Had it not been for Tom, Harry was sure he would have broken, like he had when Voldemort tortured him.

Harry curled up into the corner of his cell, and pulled his legs up to his chest. There were no lights, which meant that it must have been very early in the morning. He was glad that he would have a few hours to prepare for when they came to question him again. _'Tom?'_ He whispered in his mind, willing for his ghostly other half to appear. Harry felt him, right by his side. Other's couldn't see Tom, and he leaned his head against Harry's.

 _'It'll be okay...he'll come for us.'_ He whispered softly to the teen, running his fingers through Harry's soft hair.

"It's funny, I thought that I was stronger now. But I'm just as week as I had always been." He sighed and chuckled darkly. "They think they can stop me?"

 _'It appears so.'_

"When I get out here, the Black Widow is going to make a _shocking_ come back." Harry vowed clenching his hands into fists, curling up closer to Tom's side. "I'm not going to let them brake me...not like _he_ did."

 _'Allow me protect you. I'll crush all your enemies.'_

 _"_ I don't need protection, Tom." He looked up to the figure of the young Dark Lord, and smiled at him, a rare look of tenderness, only reserved for him. "You know that."

 _"_ Talking to yourself now, Potter?" The gruff voice of someone _very_ aggravating said, strutting into the room with two people behind him.

"The only intelligent conversation I could find around here." A sharp slap across the face, causing Harry's head to snap to the side.

"There's really no need for that." The soft voice of a young woman said, stepping out from behind Moody, causing Harry to let out a savage growl. That foul evil woman was the reason he was here to begin with. She looked at him, almost with something like pity, and when she met his eyes, she turned away looking uncomfortable.

"So Potter, I'm going to ask you the same question, that I seem to ask every damn day..." Moody said, pulling out his wand. "What do you know about Voldemort?"

"You dare to speak the Dark Lord's name?" He hissed, doing a very swell impression of Bellatrix.

"Crucio." The man said, like it was nothing, causing the young man to roll around on the ground screaming in pain. "Don't make me ask again Potter."

"I know...that the Dark Lord hates it when I'm late to parties." He said with a smirk. His head snapped to the side when Moody lost his temper and backhanded him. Harry held his cheek. "He's going to make you pay for what you're doing."

Moody smirked. "If he gets here in enough time to save you." He aimed his wand at Harry. "Who would really stop me from killing you? Who would care?"

"You'd lose whatever power you had over the Dark Lord, for one thing."

Moody sighed, but seemed to agree. "It might be out of my hands anyways." He said with a shrug. "You're too be kissed by the end of the week." He looked at Harry with a nasty smile. "So in the meantime, I'm going to make you suffer like you thought possible.

* * *

The Dark Lord was readying his troops for a brawl. He was standing on a cliff, looking down at Hogwarts with anger. The wind was blowing, and his hair was blowing around him, making him feel strangely powerful. He had gotten everyone together to save Harry after careful planning. Now, his horcrux was going to be kissed in three days, so he couldn't afford to wait any longer. He raised his wand, and cast a spell, powerful enough to destroy one of the towers. He watched in satisfaction, as it fell, and purred when he heard screaming. He turned to his servants. "Who ever brings me Harry Potter alive, and in one piece will receive a place in my inner circle. Kill anyone who tries to stop you."

They all rushed forward, and Voldemort stood still with Harry's guard. "Return him to me." He ordered them, then they all quickly made their way into the castle. The Dark Lord didn't even bother to count how many people he killed. There were just too many bodies. He was making his way to where they kept prisoners. He didn't believe that he could leave the safety of Harry and Tom in the hands of his servants.

There were alarms blaring, and yet Voldemort didn't care. He killed aurors who attacked him, as well as students. He looked up when he saw one of his servants rushing towards him, with a small black haired boy in his arms. Among the chaos, Voldemort let a smile form on his face. "Take him to Malfoy manor." He told the servant who nodded and went to do as he was asked.

Voldemort looked, and saw someone who was able to fight off his minions with ease. Dumbledore. The Dark Lord didn't give the old fool a chance to notice him, before he started attacking the old goat. It didn't take long, however for the fight to begin. Everyone else stood off to the side for the battle of legends. Dumbledore was throwing light spells, while the Dark Lord's magic almost looked like darkness itself. He looked at the man with a smirk. "If you want your precious students to make it out of this alive" He told the old man.

"This is the end, Tom." The headmaster said, his eyes icy blue. He started casting spells, one right after the other. The two most powerful men in the world were going tow to toe like there was no tomorrow, because they knew that in the end for one of them, there _was_ no tomorrow. The Dark Lord dodged one of the man's spells, and fired a cutting curse, which the man didn't dodge in time.

There were flashes of light, and Voldemort was hit with a burning curse, then he fired one off, hitting Dumbledore in the chest.

On and on it went, until eventually, Voldemort fired a curse that hit the old man. It started off slow, the old man fell to the ground, clutching his chest, until very slowly snakes seemed to be slithering under his skin, hisses and all. Voldemort watched in satisfaction as several began to burst from the man's skin. It was over, he had won.

He turned to the people, who stood and watched. "All who oppose me, will perish." He told them. He looked at his servants who were cheering like wild animals and smirked. Yes, it really was over. How would the ministry stand against him when the lord of light was dead? How would poor families disobey him when their children's lives were on the line? How could anyone ever doubt his power after what they had seen?

"Bow to me." He said addressing the crowd of children, and the odd order member, or ministry person. "Bow and swear to me you will be loyal and you're families will be safe."

There was a shift in the crowd, while people couldn't figure out what they were supposed to do. Then someone was pushing through the crowd, and standing before the Dark Lord. "Never." Said Nevil Longbottom. "After everything you've done, we'll never bow to you. Dumbledore might be dead, but so long as there are people who believe in him, _we'll still stand strong!_ " He screamed, before pulling the sword of Gryffindor out of the sorting hat, and rushing at the Dark Lord, sheathing it into the Dark Lord's stomach. The two of them stood there, while the rest of the people in the great hall watched on the edge of their seats, waiting to see what would happen next.

The Dark Lord suddenly started to laugh like a mad man, sending a shiver down the spines of everyone who was watching. He sent Nevil flying against one of the walls, and impaled him on a flag that was sticking out of the wall. He grabbed the handle and pulled the sword out of his stomach, and watched with strange fascination as blood dripped onto his hands. "I think I'll give this to Harry and Tom, I think they'll love it."

* * *

 _"Who are you?" Harry asked the strange specter, who had yet to take any real human form. It floated around him, trying to latch onto him. Harry backed away from it, trying to get it to let go. "What are you?!" He demanded._

 _It seemed to tilt what what would have been it's head. It's voice was soft, like silk that rubbed against his ears pleasantly. "I am-"_

Harry woke with a start, sitting up in his bed, gasping for air. He looked around, and saw that he was alone in his room. _His_ room, the one Voldemort had given him, not the ministry cell.

"You've always had such strange dreams." Tom said, from inside his mind.

"Whose fault was that?"

"Touche." Tom said, looking around their room. "I told you he'd come for us."

"That you did Tom, that you did."


	10. The one who taught you this

Harry wasn't really the strong type. Physically anyways. He was laying in bed, trying to rid himself of the ache in his entire body. There were guards, sitting outside his room, and Harry could hear them sometimes, exchanging words about this or that. Nothing of importance. He was starting to get a little stir crazy. Voldemort had ordered him to mandatory bed rest until he could walk without any aid, which was proving to be a lot tougher then he had originally thought. After what had happened with Mad Eye, it seemed that what little strength Harry had, was now gone.

 _"You'll be okay."_ Tom said, sitting beside him, putting a hand on Harry's knee. " _Really, you were very brave. I'm proud of you, for not giving anything away."_

Harry snorted. "Thanks." He let out a soft sigh, and rested his head against the pillow. He needed to get out of there. "I'm going crazy in here, Tom." He said, looking at the green and white painted room. He perked up when there was a knock on his door. "Come in." He called gently, sitting up and putting the pillow behind him. The door opened, and he smirked when Avery, Malfoy, and Crouch walked into the room, in an orderly line.

"Good morning, Potter." Lucius said, keeping his emotions off his face.

Harry let an evil smile spread over his face. "To what do I own this visit, gentlemen?" He asked, trying to imagine a way he could get one over on his favorite toys. Maybe another chase through the gardens? Or a tumble in the sack? Both were about the same when it came to amusement.

"The Dark Lord would like you to attend supper tonight." Avery said, smirking at the look in the teen's eyes, knowing that it meant something interesting was going to happen.

"I thought I wasn't allowed to move."

"Things change." Lucius said.

"Oh, such a cold voice, Lulu." He said, casting the man a withering look, before cracking another smile. He turned to the other two. "Wait for him outside the door." He ordered. They did as they were instructed, leaving Lord Malfoy alone with their master's crazy heir.

"What do you want?" Lucius asked, finally letting the anger he was feeling show in his voice and face.

Harry shrugged. "Are you still mad about that whole Draco thing?" He asked.

"Mad isn't the right word for it."

"Hmph." He pouted. "It's not like your son was unwilling." He pointed out.

"But I've seen how you use people. You throw them out, like they mean nothing to you when you're finished. How many people's hearts have you broken?"

"Maybe I wouldn't have?" He offered. "Maybe I actually like Draco."

"But I doubt it. Someone like you, you don't know _how_ to have a relationship."

"Someone like me. What do you mean by that?"

"A whore!" Lucius snapped, with a venom that actually surprised Harry. The lord looked down at the teenager, who looked like he had been struck, and smirked. "You don't like that?" He asked, with fake sympathy.

Harry bit his lip, and turned to the side when he felt Tom's hand on his shoulder. That hand, reminded him to stay in control. "You're wrong..." He said, looking back up at the blond.

"Am I?" He asked with a smirk.

"Yes, whores get paid, and make a respectable business with what they do." He said, returning the nasty look full force. "I do it, because I can."

Malfoy's face fell slightly, then he glared full force at the boy. He walked over to Harry, and seemed to have to physically restrain himself from lashing out. "You vile little beast." He snarled.

Harry pouted, a strange look in his eyes, which Lucius had never seen before. "You know what I've learned, hoeing my way through your manor?" He asked. He reached out, and grabbed Lucius by the shirt, and pulled the Lord on top of him. "That some people are best in bed, when they're angry. Are you?"

Lucius let out a disgusted snarl, and pushed himself away, almost hitting Harry in the face. "Are you really so desperate? Will you really go for anything that moves?"

Harry nodded. "Just about."

"We're done here." Lucius spun around, and made his way towards the door.

"Strange, no one's turned me down before." He said.

The man stopped for a moment. "If I was your father..." He said, he turned and looked at Harry, with something like pity in his silver eyes. "I would murder any adult who put their hands on you, and trained you to think that _this_ was acceptable." Then he nodded, and opened the door, leaving Harry there feeling like shit. He didn't understand what the man meant, and it drove him _insane_ that someone had turned him down.

Avery had stayed, and leaned against the wall, watching the young man fume. "You really pissed Malfoy off." He said, after a few minutes of silence had passed.

"I don't care!" He snapped at his guard, throwing a pillow. He felt something foreign building up in his eyes, but quickly blinked it away.

"You wanna talk about it?" He asked, sitting on the kid's bed.

Harry shook his head, and looked at the wall. "Who is going to be at supper?" He asked, trying to change the subject.

"The usual." Avery shrugged. "So, what happened?"

Harry looked up at the man, and frowned. He grimaced when he thought of Malfoy's last words to him. "Nothing, it's private."

"Hmm." Avery said, nodding and looking out the window. "So...both Malfoys turned you down, huh?"

Harry turned a dark crimson color, and gaped at his guard.

"What?" The man asked, shrugging his shoulders.

"Get out." Harry growled.

Avery smirked, but still complied. He was chuckling all the way out, much to Harry's annoyance.


End file.
